Gilded Silver
by cryptonomicon
Summary: Be thankful for what you have, or you might find one day that you may not have it at all. When push comes to shove and lessons are tied in with secrets, how will Badou cope with the consequences of losing something he never thought he could? BxH
1. Anarchy in Blue

-Hey everybody, crypto here! This is my first actual DOGS fic, and I've been playing with this plot for a while now. It probably won't be very long, but it should be interesting. If you're wondering, this is a HeinexBadou fic, but it might not seem that way from the first chapter. It'll come in later, I promise. I also promise that Suma, the character introduced in this chapter, will in no way be romantically involved with Badou. If you think she should be, write your own drabbles with her in it. So long as you give me rights to her manic insanity, it's fine with me. Have fun reading, and R&R please!

* * *

Anarchy in Blue

As Badou sat at his usual table in Buon Viaggio, he mulled dully over the job he and Heine had done late the previous night. His arm still hurt from a hard hit he had taken on his way down a set of stairs. Albeit he wasn't exactly going down them the way he should have, rather, he had gone tumbling head over heels down the stairs rather than just jumping down them two at a time like he usually did. He had ended up generally unhurt from the whole ordeal, save for one hell of a bruise he was now garnering on his arm. Considering some of the other wounds he had received from separate jobs, these weren't so bad. But his trouble hadn't just ended at the stairs.

No. It had just been one of those nights.

It had been one of those nights for Heine too, the poor fucker. He had been so plugged full of holes that Badou, even knowing Heine's bodily processes, was surprised he was still conscious. As it turned out, the moment that Heine had returned to his lowly apartment he had indeed passed out. Badou felt sorry for him, and felt sorry for having left him lying in pain like that on his old weather beaten couch, but it didn't change the fact that the only furniture that Heine had other than his sink and bathtub was said couch. Which, the night previous, he had claimed with every right as his own.

So, Badou had left him to heal, choosing to go back to his own miserable flat to sleep the damage off. As it had turned out, most of the damage was still there when he got up the next morning, but he wasn't in half the mood he had been when he had crumpled on to his mattress the evening before.

Rolling a meatball around in a distinctly bored fashion, Badou sighed. He still hadn't heard from Heine yet, even though it was nearly noon. He knew Heine didn't sleep well, if at all, but he had left the albino almost a good eleven hours ago. Even he didn't sleep that long. His only comfortable assumption rested in the idea that Heine was already up and around, and was out attending to his own business.

Whatever business he had outside of their small partnership.

Clenching the fork between his teeth, Badou looked about the café, nearly startling himself out of his pants when he saw one of the other customers staring at him. Not just looking; _staring_. He hadn't noticed her at first… hell; he hadn't noticed her at all until he had caught sight of those neon blue eyes staring straight at him.

Rather, he felt that they were staring through him. They were intensely blue, shockingly blue almost. Her pupils were strangely small, like Heine's were sometimes when he was angry or stunned. They weren't unkind, but they still disturbed him with how deadly set they were on him. He had always liked to think himself easy on the eyes, but he felt like this girl, whoever she was, was _eating_ him with her eyes. It scared him, and as he observed the rest of her, he didn't find his fears alleviated.

She was tall, that fact obvious, even as she hid herself beneath the table a short ways away from him. Taller than even Naoto, he would wager, with the way her pale legs stretched out beneath the table. She wore a loose black jacket with a high collar, one that Heine would have liked he was sure, but wore it with the front open, revealing a narrow core and a perhaps not so modestly hidden chest with a black laced tank top clinging to her pleasantly shaped underneath. Her skirt, short and well fitted, was black, and clung to her narrow thighs like a glove, only barely coming to rest a third of the way down her thighs Her feet were only protected by a trim pair of sandals; a dangerous thing in a city where you never knew what could land on your feet and render you unable to run.

Overall, the feeling he was getting from her was one of probable insanity. And as he came to that conclusion he became aware of just how much she was scaring the shit out of him.

Worst of all, beneath a silvery gray head of shimmering hair, her face was twisted into a disturbing smirk. It wasn't malicious, but he knew then that she knew a whole lot more than he did, in whatever relation she seemed to be seeing in him. She was pretty, yes, and had he seen her on the street he probably would have whistled in appreciation. But now that she was staring at him, making him feel like a bug pinned to corkboard, he realized that whatever beauty she had would come at a terrible price, to anybody that chose to get involved with whatever she had to offer.

Badou swallowed hard, his fork still clenched between his teeth. He knew he needed to say something, but he had no idea where to start. He was still so thrown off by her gaze that his usually quite motorized mouth was jammed into complete silence.

"_Hello Badou_," she said, her pale lips parting to speak a greeting connected to his name so silky soft that it made chills run down his spine. "_It seems you're having a pleasant day. Have a good night last night?_" she asked, resting her narrow chin on her flat palm, leaning gently and resting herself slightly over her table. Empty of food, he noted, but not empty of drink. She was drinking a small glass of wine, almost empty next to her free hand.

"Um…" he said, his throat still tight. He didn't care whether she was referring to his job or to what could often be assumed happened in his nights. He wasn't much one for hookers anymore, but she didn't need to be aware of that. "Not really, it was kind of rough," he said, taking his fork out of his mouth and rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

Her expression slid into one of concern, one so convincing that he wondered why initially he had been so afraid of her. She was so… sincere, what could he have seen that had frightened him so much?

"_How terrible!_" she cried, concern, and an overwhelming amount of care in her voice. Only minutely did his mind compute that he had no idea who she was, and why on earth she seemed to be so intent upon being interested in him. "_What happened? Are you alright?_"

Startled at first, Badou didn't reply, twisting his thoughts together. He wasn't sure how to respond, thinking of what he could tell her. He really wasn't alright, considering… but saying he fell down a set of stairs as an explanation wasn't exactly exciting… or manly. Both of which he was overdue for an emergency dose of.

"I took a bad fall while on the job last night," he said, choosing to make the truth sound just a bit better. He wasn't lying after all, just edging around the truth. "I banged up my arm, but I think I'll make it through," he said, smiling wryly at her. If she was interested, he was at least going to take advantage of it while he could.

"_Oh you poor thing,_" she cooed from her table. "_Haven't you had it looked at? I could have sworn that that old fox would treat you better than this!_" She stood, striding over to him and looking worriedly down at his arm. "_You're such an asset, and to think she's abusing your efforts by giving you such dangerous work!_"

As she sat down next to him, Badou smiled at her, puffing out his chest and looking at her with a glimmer of pride in his eyes. "Glad I'm not the only one who thinks so. But really, the old granny isn't so bad. Some of her work is a bit rough on the old bod, but nothing Badou Nails can't handle," he said, enjoying his chance to boast for once in his life.

She looked at him and smiled sweetly, but a flicker of concern lingered in her striking blue eyes. "_Perhaps I could help you then. I've been looking for someone to do a couple of easy jobs for me. I can't do them, because I've got no experience in the area,_" she said, tracing a long finger over his shoulder, her nail raking over his shirt in a gently suggestive manner. "_But you, Badou, you know all sorts of things about working under cover. Would you be willing to do me a few favors? I'd be willing to pay them back, of course. Cash, favors, loans, whatever you want in return, just ask and I'll deliver._"

Badou fumbled in his pocket for a cig, lighting it and looking at her as she sat next to him, looking all to reliant on whatever his answer would be. How could he say no to a face like that? The old fox wouldn't mind if he picked up a little extra money on the side, and Heine could handle things while he was out, right? He could spare a few days, hell; he hadn't done something he wanted to do in a long time. The depression could go fuck itself, if this lady asked him, he'd shoot himself for the right price.

He smiled at her, offering a hand for her to shake. "At your service, ma'am," he said. "But I didn't get your name."

"_Call me Suma,_" she said, shaking his hand with a gentle, feminine air, a bashfully coquettish blush staining her pale cheeks. Pulling out a small card from the inside of her coat, she leaned in next to him, slipping it into a pocket on the inside of his jacket and looking at him with a pair of bedroom eyes that not even his perfectly clean mind could resist. "_Here's my card. Call me tomorrow, and I'll set up your first job,_" she said, leaning away rising with such graceful swiftness that it nearly sent the Cyclops tumbling back in his seat.

She strode over to the door quickly, blowing a kiss at him and waving as she left. He watched her go, appreciating the swing of her hips beneath the short skirt she wore. Still, even after she had faded from his sight, her blue eyes lingered in his mind's eye. Standing and leaving a bill that generally covered his food; he stood to leave as well. If he wanted to be able to keep his promise, he would have to tell the old granny that he wouldn't be available for the next few days. That, and tell Heine that he'd be on his own until his mysterious mistress returned him to his partnership.

He looked over at the table where she had been sitting as he came to the door, noting with odd interest that the wine glass she had been drinking from was now gone, the napkin on which it had once sat also mysteriously disappeared.

Dismissing it as the work of the over-zealous waiters that Kiri had hired, Badou left the small bistro. For once the eyes of his partner no longer haunted him, the crimson red the same as the wine his new mistress had been drinking earlier now gone from his mind. Now, all that remained was the electric blue that promised not only a heavily paid future, but a veil of secrets that intoxicated him into thinking that maybe, if this turned out well enough, he would never really go back to the old fox's place for work.

If it was meant to be, he would never need to.


	2. Pocket Aces

-Well, I've definitely been in the mood for writing lately, so I thought that I would post the second chapter of this while I had the time. I hope that you guys like this, because I'm having a ton of fun writing it. This is day one of Badou's week of miscellaneous work, so be sure to stay tuned for what happens the rest of the time.

Pocket Aces

When Badou awoke the next morning it was to a starving need for smokes and a brilliantly clear day outside his dirty window. Overall not too bad considering he had a full pack in his coat pocket and for once it wasn't cloudy or cold. He went through his morning routine, showering the standard filth from all of his nooks and crannies and wriggling his way into his clothes before returning out to generally public places.

As soon as Badou was out of his apartment, he took in the clear day with lazy slowness. Had it been any other day, he would probably have been worried about having taken so long. Haine more than likely would have eaten him alive for being late again, but he found that as he fondled gently the business card still in his coat pocket, that he really didn't give a damn.

Smiling to himself at the prospect of a potentially new job, he drew out the small piece of card stock. There wasn't really all that much on it save for a neatly printed name and phone number.

"_Sumati Fey: Research & Relation Services_

_+7 (4232) 555-12-21"_

Badou smiled as he walked towards his usual payphone. Haine wouldn't be getting a call today, just his new lady friend. He noted with pleasure that her phone number included the international and city area codes, and he thought with hope how much business she must have gotten if she needed to address her phone number in a global format. If that implication was true, then he would be in for a pretty paycheck at the end of the week… or whenever she chose to pay him. As long as she did he was as happy as a clam. Or whatever the saying was.

Punching in the numbers and waiting as the phone rang slowly, he wondered whether or not he should inform the old Granny of his change in jobs. He supposed not, seeing as when, if ever, it got slow with Suma that he would want something to fall back to.

'_Hopefully I won't be taking as many falls period_,' he thought to himself, remembering his tumble with bitter dryness. It was definitely time for a change.

"_Hello_?" a smooth voice lilted in a velvety tone over the phone, and as a not at all too unpleasant chill ran down Badou's spine, he wondered if she always answered the phone like that.

In his case he hoped she did.

"Hey. Suma? It's Badou, you know, the guy you gave your card to yesterday?" he said, hoping that the day before had not just been some mad fantasy of his over-active imagination.

"_But of course, Badou_," she said, and he could practically see her smile in his mind's eye. "_I've been waiting for you to call all morning_."

Badou swallowed a knot of apprehension. "Sorry about that… I just slept in I guess. And it's such a nice day, I guess I just got a little lost in it," he said, trying to mumble his way out of what he was sure to be trouble.

"_Oh don't fuss, Badou. I don't blame you. The weather is lovely. I'm just glad that you got back to me at all. For a while I was worried that you weren't going to take me up on my offer_," she said sweetly, and Badou took a great sigh of relief and thought to himself, '_I'd take up any offer you gave me_.'

"Don't worry about that. I'm up for anything you can throw at me," he said confidently. The sun, the job, the actually _pleasant_ conversation… it was all just making him a bundle of sunshine and daisies. He never could have imagined himself so happy, especially not when the albino bastard he usually worked with wasn't even capable of decent conversation.

"_Marvelous_," Suma said. "_Then I'd like to give you your first job. But Badou, I have to know. How good are you at poker_?"

Badou paused, processing the question slowly. "I'm not too shabby," he said, smirking to himself in remembrance of the time he Kiri had held a poker tournament at _Buon Viaggio_ to raise a little money, and he had smoked every single one of the customers. Yeah, he wasn't too bad at poker if he could say so himself.

"_Lovely, Badou. I knew that I could count on you. Now, because I trust your skills, I've arranged your seat at a poker tournament going on today. Dress nicely if you can, and if you could win it would be greatly appreciated__**.**_" He smiled to himself, feeling a bead of sweat on his brow. He would need to dust off his old suit… but he could do it if he worked fast. "_Would that be alright for you, Badou_?" she asked, her tone actually sounding concerned.

He nodded quickly, only remembering that she could see it and replying with haste, "Yeah! It sounds great, Suma. Where do you want me to be?" he asked.

"_It's at the old Twilight Theatre at four o' clock. Their Conference Room is being set up to handle the gentlemen gathering. I trust that you'll do me proud_," she said. He gulped quietly, not sure on whether or not the threat he heard in her tone was actually there, or whether it was just a figment of Haine bothering his imagination.

'_Damn albino bastard_,' Badou thought, '_can't even stay out of my thoughts. Intrusive little bitch_.'

"I'll be there with bells on," he said, deciding to spite the glimmer of Haine's influence and go ahead with the plan anyway. If she would pay him, he would go. Hell, if she _asked_ him to, he would go just for the hell of it.

"_Wonderful. Thanks so much Badou. Give me a call when the tournament is over, and I'll arrange for your pay to be delivered to you_," she promised, and the gunman smiled to himself. What a great deal this was turning out to be. He was doing something generally easy, for what was assured to be a splendid amount of pay. What more could a broke teen ask for?

"Actually," Badou said, coming up with an idea of his own, "why don't you meet me at _Buon Viaggio_ after I call you? I wouldn't mind seeing you again, and you could just bring the money with you if that would work okay."

He waited for a moment, and he feared that perhaps his enterprising attitude had gone a bit too far. He was proven wrong when his employer replied, "_That would work splendidly, Badou. I'd love to. Just give me a call and tell me how it went when you're done, and I'll meet you there_."

"Thanks, Suma," Badou said, a thrill of excitement weeding through the crevices of his mind, "I'll talk to you then."

"_Goodbye, Badou. And good luck_," she said, and the line went silent in her wake.

Hanging up the phone and striding away from the booth feeling like the king of the world, Badou Nails smiled to himself. Playing poker for an afternoon, smoking expensive cigs, drinking fine imported brandy, what could be better? Maybe a good fuck afterwards, but he'd leave that part out for now. He wasn't sure even his charm could get away with that, especially with such a high rolling woman like Suma.

But he would wait, and he would be patient, and at the end of it all he would get everything he ever wanted. And all in all, his life would be better for it.

So he hoped anyway.

* * *

Badou sighed out a plume of white smoke, smirking down at his cards. On the table currently there was an eight of diamonds, a three of hearts, an ace of clubs, a seven of hearts, and a king of clubs. A mixed crowd to be sure, but apparently it was a good one, because the man cross from him was smirking wildly. They were the only two left in the game, seeing as it was the last one.

"All in," the man said, his thick Arabian accent making it almost sound like he was saying 'oll' instead of all. Badou shrugged, keeping his face as straight as he could as he pushed his rather high stacks of chips into the center of the table.

"Call," he said, staring at the man without hesitation. Despite being a coward in most other places, when it came to the poker table, the only person who could beat Badou Nails' poker face was Haine, and seeing as Haine didn't gamble, he was nigh unbeatable.

The other man smirked, flipping his cards over dramatically and leaning back in his chair. His arms were crossed over his chest, which was puffed out in an overbearing show of strength.

Sitting in front of him were two kings. Red and black, diamonds and spades, they stared up at him. He knew what they meant, but even as the dealer stated it aloud he managed to keep his cool.

"Trip' Kings."

It would be a tough hand to beat by any standards. The odds were against him, he knew that much. But he also knew something that the man across from him didn't.

"Mr. Nails, please show your cards," the dealer said, looking over at him expectantly. Rather, it looked more like he was expecting him to lose. Which on any other day Badou would not have been all too surprised about. But he let his poker face fall as a dirty smirk slithered across his lips and around his cigarette.

He turned his cards over, revealing probably the one thing that could beat a set of 3 kings.

In his hand, Badou Nails had two aces. The two red cards stared up at the other man, and the diamonds and hearts bled like money from a wallet over the table.

"Trip' Aces," the dealer said, tapping the table, "Aces win."

Badou smiled as the dealer loaded up his chips. It had been close, too close almost. But he'd made it, all hours he had spent contending with the big leagues and what did he have to show for it? _Everything_. He had won every god damned round, and earned more than one hundred thousand dollars. He could only hope that the cash out that went to Suma, and then the pay that went to him would be even a fraction of his winnings. He needed it. Badly.

But as his opponent stood in rage, yelling across the table at him, "You cheat!" Badou couldn't help but smile. Adventure just followed him around didn't it? Well he wasn't about to pass up a good opportunity, so the gun smoker whirled, punching the man square across the face and sending him reeling to the floor.

"No, fucktard," he said, smiling as the security guards dragged him away, "I've just got more luck than you do."

A man tapped him on the shoulder, and he turned quickly, afraid that one of the men that had bowed out earlier had been in cahoots with the man he had just punched, only to find it was one of the workers, offering him a small case filled with his winnings. He took the case, thanking the man and saluting the older men brashly as he made his way out.

"Thanks for all your help gentlemen, see you next time!" he sang as he sauntered out of the room.

He made his way out of the theatre, taking in a deep breath of cool night air as it greeted him. He had one phone call to make, and then he was going to have a date with a pretty lady, and a warm amount of cash in his hands. What could be better, he thought then, than this?

* * *

Striding into _Buon Viaggio_, Badou smiled triumphantly. He knew that Suma wouldn't be there yet, seeing as he had just walked straight over from his standard pay phone. But boy was he going to have fun in the mean time, rubbing it in Mimi's face when she found out how much money he had won.

"Isn't it a bit late for you to be coming in, Badou? I though you and Haine worked mostly nights," Kiri said from behind the bar as she buffed some water out of a small wine glass.

He shook his head, smirking as Mimi looked over at him curiously. "What's with the monkey suit?" she asked, his fancy attire obviously having confused her young mind.

"Hell no, I'm not dealing with that pale-assed piece of shit any more than I have to," Badou said, glaring at the older woman before looking over at Mimi with a superior look. "And it's actually just a suit, squirt. It's what you wear when you go to _professional_ poker tournaments."

"What," Mimi replied, "to sell smokes? How on Earth did _you_ get to even get into a professional poker tournament? I thought they wouldn't have let you through the door."

"Well that's where you're wrong, squirt. 'Cause Badou Nails just won over one hundred thousand dollars _playing_ at a professional poker tournament. Eat that," he said, striding haughtily over to a booth and plopping himself down dramatically. He sat with his legs splayed, a small trick he had learned from Haine. When you wanted to look bad ass, especially for men, you had to sit with your legs open. Because if you gave the right look, and had the right air about you, people wouldn't even think about taking the stance as an offer. It was more of a show of power most of the time, and now that he had it, Badou was reveling in it.

Mimi was about to say something then the bell attached to the door of _Buon Viaggio_ sounded meekly. Badou turned his head, smiling before he even saw who was at the door. He knew already, he didn't need to look. She was always punctual, even on short notice, and as he walked through the door in a black trench coat, one that barely reached her mid thigh, he couldn't help but think how lucky he was to have an employer as hot as Suma. Her neon blue eyes glinted happily as she walked over to him. They must have been quite a pair, he thought. Him in a tux that would make James Bond shameful, and her in an outfit that could seduce any man with a passing glance alone, they could rule the town in a matter of hours.

Or days, as it seemed Suma had planned.

"_So, Badou_," Suma said, sitting down across from him and smiling almost wickedly. He was reminded of something then, but could not remember what it was… just a tinge of some feeling he could not comprehend, and chose idly to ignore. "_How did it go_?"

Badou smiled back, hefting up his case of money and letting it sit innocently on the table in front of them both. "I cleaned them all out. None of them stood a chance," he replied happily.

She nodded, flicking open the clips on the case and looking at its inner contents. Stacks of hundred dollar bills sat neatly arranged in the case, and she smiled at Badou, one that mixed honey and caramelized ginger into a candy so sweet even his imagination was drooling. "_Wonderful job, Mr. Nails_," she said, "_You did exactly what I needed you to_."

Badou's chest puffed with pride. "It wasn't that hard to win really, they really had no idea what they were doing in my opinion," he said, liking the feeling of sounding like he knew what he was doing.

"_Actually_," Suma said, her smile widening, "_I didn't even really need you to win. I just needed you to strike up some tensions_."

Badou looked at her, confusion glimmering in his one eye. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"_Well_," she said, her thumb brushing over the tips of the bills, fanning them out like peacock feathers, "_our client is in… opposition of the family that put on the poker tournament. Actually, that family owes him quite a sum of money. What he wanted was someone who would openly represent him, and his distaste for the family's dealings with his money. Now that you've openly cleaned them out, they have no choice but to face my client with the fact that they have spent all of his invested money, and take the lawsuit that he's going to hand to them in order to get it back_."

Badou blinked in surprise. He hadn't known how deep this poker game was. He'd thought initially that it had all just been for fun. What could he have gotten himself into if he hadn't won?

"So, he's going to get all of the winnings on top of whatever he gets out of the lawsuit?" Badou asked, feeling a sort of mild disappointment that all of the money he had won was not going to stay within the reach of his hands.

Suma laughed pleasantly. "_Oh no, Badou. We're keeping the winnings. That's how he's paying me for your services. He said that whatever we won from the poker tournament would be ours, and that he wouldn't need it after he got through with the lawsuit_," she answered, smiling at him as glee spread across his face.

"_What do you say, Badou Nails, shall we split it fifty-fifty_?"

Badou was stunned in surprise. He was about to come into possession of over fifty _thousand_ dollars, and all for a couple hours worth of high stakes poker. It was only the first day with this woman, and he'd already made more in a few hours than he had in his entire life.

He nodded dumbly, his mouth agape as he watched his employer split the stacks of hundreds into two piles. He counted himself, but knew that he wouldn't need to. He could trust Suma to do an even count, but his eyes were fed the sweetest candy they'd seen in a long time as he watched his pile of money grow steadily as the money was divided between them.

'_I'll have smokes for the rest of my life_,' he thought, taking one of the stacks in his hands and looking at it in wonder. '_And screw rent! I could buy a house! Or a car! Maybe get away from this god damned town and go and do something in the real world! Away from all of this craziness, wouldn't that be nice…_'

Finally, when Suma was finished, she fished out a small empty satchel that had been resting beside her. He had not seen her bring it in, but supposed that he had been too busy staring at her legs to have noticed such a small detail as a satchel.

Carefully placing her money inside, Suma zipped it up, smiling one last time at Badou. "_Congratulations, Mr. Nails, and well done. I'm afraid I can't stay for long, I have a meeting with another client tonight, so that hopefully I'll have another job for you tomorrow_."

Badou nodded, taking the case in which he had initially brought the money and stacking his share in. He closed it, smelling the sweet scent of wealth waft out at him. He smiled, looking up to thank Suma, only to find her gone.

He looked around, and he thought he could see the slightest sliver of movement as the door to _Buon Viaggio_ closed. He looked over to Mimi, who had turned to talk to Kiri as the shop began to close down for the night. Badou strode up to the bar and patted it loudly, gathering both girls' attention.

"Well ladies, sorry to disappoint, but this guy's gotta head home for the night. Maybe I'll see you around sometime, I'll stop by and give you a tip maybe," he said, smirking as he felt the weight of the money in the case in his hand."

Mimi just rolled her eyes, but Kiri laughed amicably. "Alright Badou. Oh, before you go, would you do me a favor?" she asked, her tone slipping into a bit more serious one.

"What's the favor?" Badou asked.

"Naoto said that she hasn't seen Haine in a few days. Apparently Nill's getting worried. Would you mind seeing if you could check in on him just to make sure he's okay?" she asked, sounding a bit more concerned than Badou thought she should have been.

He rolled his eyes, doubting the severity of Haine's elusiveness. Damn bastard would go missing for days at a time, he doubted it was all too important that he needed to do it _immediately_. He nodded, waving over his shoulder as he went out the door. He would talk to Haine later. Right now his agenda consisted of getting some smokes, some good brandy, and going to bed. And, before all that, being happy for once in his hum-drum life.

"Thank you, Suma," he said to himself, chuckling as he made his way home through the darkening city, a blue moon illuminating his way.


	3. Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

Hey everybody, crypto is back and ready to go! I know it's been all summer since I updated _Gilded Silver_, but now I'm up and ready for the task at hand. Just to give you a time frame for this fic, there are going to be three more days (chapters) of miscellaneous work for Badou before the last two days (chapters) kick it up a notch. Also: the last chapter may contain concepts that I may or may not include. More on the bottom for that. For now just read and enjoy this obscenely long chapter, and I'll hopefully be back soon.

* * *

Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

When Badou awoke the next morning, it was to the best night's sleep he'd had in years. For what seemed to be the first time he could really remember, he woke up with no pain in his joints, no holes in his clothes, and some money still left in his pocket. Not, mind you, missing because of some cheap back-corner hooker that he had fucked the night before. No, he was still loaded, but felt like he had gotten some last night anyway.

He jumped off of his mattress, smiling down at it as he thought of the one he would buy to replace it. One of those nice astronaut-foam fuckers that made an imprint in it, and he'd buy some fancy wine just so he could jump on the mattress and watch the wine not spill.

Yeah, all in all it didn't sound too bad to him.

After a meal, shower, and more internal gloating, he finally made his way back out of his apartment, taking all the gall and courage to flip off his landlady and smile while he was doing it. With the way things were going with Suma, he'd never have to see the damn bitch again in his life if his luck continued. And by the way it was looking, his luck wasn't showing any signs of ending.

He strutted out to his phone booth, dialing up the number he by now knew by heart. Sure, it had only been a day, and usually his memory was shot to hell with even remembering his own jobs, but with something as new, fresh, and richly promising as Suma, he found it infinitesimally easier to comply with his brain's meager memory requirements.

He waited for a moment while the phone rang; tapping his foot on the sidewalk to a tune he didn't know the name of. It was one of those ditties that everyone knew, but no one knew the name of. When finally Suma's velvety voice answered, he smiled broadly.

"Mornin' Suma!" he said brightly, peering out of the phone booth to look at a small clock tower down the street. It was about one in the afternoon, and the sun was gleaming brightly off the face of the clock. "Or," he said, chuckling lightheartedly, "I guess it would be afternoon now, huh?"

Her laugh echoed over the phone, and even though it was smooth and silky like her voice, something about it chilled him. He pushed it aside, blaming the sudden wave of goose bumps on a stray breeze and pulling his jacket a little higher up on his shoulders.

"_Yes, Badou, I would say so. I suppose that at this time in the afternoon you must be wanting your job information for this evening,_" she said, and he tacked more genius onto her already pleasantly stacked profile of positive aspects. Heine was that smart, but he was much more of ass, and didn't have quite as nice a one as Suma.

"Yes, ma'am, I am," he said, mentally noting that probably for the first time in his life he had rhymed without thinking about it. "What have you got for me on this beautiful day?"

His employer laughed again, and another chill went through him. He pulled his coat up further. Damn breezes anyway.

"_Well,_" she said, a note of regret in her voice, "_I'm afraid that tonight's assignment may be a bit out of your league. Not because the job is too hard for you, I mean. I have perfect faith in your abilities… It's just the atmosphere that's got me concerned._"

Badou gave a confused look to his reflection in the phone booth's glass walls. "Why?" he asked. "Where is it supposed to be?"

There was a pause before Suma spoke again. "_This job is to be completed at an opera this evening. We are to… shall we say, eradicate, a man in attendance. The pay is quite hefty, but I haven't yet determined just how this is to be formally arranged. It is a rather public forum, after all._"

Badou nodded, scratching his chin and leaning against the side of the small booth. After a moment's pause, a light burst to life in his head, and he smiled a bit in triumph. "Suma," he asked, "do you think we could sneak a sniper rifle in if it could fit in a briefcase?"

This time the pause was short in waiting for Suma's reply. "_Badou Nails that is brilliant!_" she said with what Badou could only guess to be glee in her sultry voice. "_You're just marvelous, Badou. Oh and you've even helped give me a plan for our alibi! Splendid!_"

"Wait," Badou said, pausing for a moment. "What do you mean by _our_ alibi?"

"_Oh so silly, Badou,_" Suma said, her voice so coy that he worried some passerby may hear and steal away his glory for the sake of that voice. "_I'm not letting you go alone. It will be so much less conspicuous with the two of us there. Trust me, Badou. I won't let you down._"

"I _do_ trust you, Suma," Badou said, suddenly in a slight panic over the prospect of her not believing him. "Please," he said in a softer tone, "believe me."

This time her laugh chilled him down to the bone.

It was a soft, echoing laughter. So light that he could barely hear it over the phone, but so sharp and cold was it that he felt as if a dagger of ice has been slit across and left stuck in his gut. He shivered uncontrollably for a moment as that laughter lingered on, his hands beginning to shake so badly that he almost dropped the receiver in his hands.

"_I know you do, Badou. I know you do,_" she said after a moment, and he shook himself to get the chill to dissipate. He took a deep breath, struggling to smile at someone who wouldn't be able to appreciate it anyway.

"Thanks, Suma," he said, his voice sounding stiff even in his own ears. "Where do you want to meet?"

"_How about in front of that church on Saint Augustine Boulevard? You know, the one with the angels out front?_" she asked, and for a split second Badou's mind bolted to the image of Nill… and how he had forgotten to go check on Heine for her.

He brushed the gray promise aside, answering with a melancholy, "Yeah, sure. I'll be there."

"_Marvelous. Be there at five o' clock, and be sure to wear your tuxedo. You do look so dashing in it,_" Suma said, her voice now clean of the bloody ice it had been bathed in not moments beforehand. "_Wonderful talking to you, Badou. I'll see you at five._"

The line went stone cold, and the gunner hung up his side of the line in stiff reverie. Feeling antsy for the first time in days, Badou plucked a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He fished out a small book of matches, scratching the first against his palm until the tip was alight with dancing orange flame. He pressed the flame and the cigarette together, shaking the flame out as he took his first deep breath of nicotine.

He already felt better.

Sighing out a plume of gray smoke, Badou began his journey down his street. He was at least going to fulfill his promise to Nill. He wouldn't go knocking on Heine's door, per se, but he would at least investigate where his usually illusive partner was off to _this time_. Taking another deep swig of black smoke, Badou let out another sigh. With each breath he felt a little bit better. The shakiness was fading away, and he wasn't so cold now. He'd go check up on his ex-partner, go back to his apartment and change, then meet Suma at the church at five. He had plenty of time and plenty of smokes, so he was sure that by the time five rolled around he would be back to his obnoxious old self.

Or so he hoped, anyway.

* * *

The door to Granny Liza's place was never locked. Even when business hours were over, she would let people trickle in. Just in the case that there was some late night stray that needed a place to stay, she kept the front lobby cozy with the aid of plush couches with velvet covered cushions and a fireplace that was always going. There was even a coffee machine next to the bathroom, but the coffee was often too strong for most people and left alone completely.

But today, much against his usual habit of bursting in at o' dark thirty in the evening, he came in within the standard parameters of business hours. And he came in quietly too, just pushing the door open enough for the small bell to sound, and just wide enough for him to get in. He slipped his jacket off and slung it over his shoulder, knowing he'd toast in the old buzzard's lobby if he didn't. He went up to the front desk and ran the bell eight times, as was his and Heine's usual habit. It signaled that they specifically were there, so that even if Liza was upstairs or away, her ragtag staff would know what to do.

Hearing no indication of movement from behind the counter, Badou wandered back over to one of the large couches, taking a haphazard seat as he waited. Sprawled out over the cushions, he took in a deep breath, flicking the blunt butt of what was left of his sixth cigarette into the small glass ashtray that sat on the coffee table in front of the fireplace.

Just as he pulled out another fresh cigarette he heard the staccato click of Granny's heels. He glanced over her shoulder, only able to see her ears behind the counter. He was able to see the rest of her when she came out from behind it, and even then the top of her head only reached the back of the couch.

"Badou!" she said, sounding surprised, though not unhappy to see him. "What a pleasant surprise! We've been looking all over for you!"

She walked around the edge of the couch, jumping up onto a loveseat to his left and squinting at him intently through her glasses. Her hands were folded above her skirt, as any proper woman would have. He had never realized it before, but for as harsh as Granny Liza could be sometimes, she was a pretty dependable woman.

"So," she said, breaking his silence for him, "what can I do for you?"

Badou didn't answer for a while, only taking the time to light his cigarette before answering her. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm doing some jobs on the side," he said calmly, knowing that "on the side" was putting it mildly in comparison to the money he was making. "That's why I haven't been around the past few days."

Liza chuckled, and a tick in Badou's remaining eye twitched. "I figured you'd want a couple of days off after that tumble you took, Badou," she said, not sounding at all unsurprised. "But I hadn't figured that you'd been working all this time."

"It's only been two days, you old bat, don't make it sound like it's been forever," he grumbled, taking a deep breath of smoke and releasing it slowly.

Something in the old fox's smile changed then. It drooped, as her entire face seemed to. Her shoulders were a little less angled, and her hands more open. She seemed to wilt before his eyes, and he looked at her in curiosity as she spoke in a listless tone. "For some people, Badou, it has seemed like forever. None of us have seen Heine since the night you took your fall. Nill is worried, and I'm beginning to have my concerns too."

The Cyclops couldn't help but snort. He rolled his eyes, trying desperately to look the part of his nonchalance. "The man doesn't sleep for days at a time. He's probably out wandering around somewhere or holed up in that apartment of his. Why don't you check there before you start crying those alligator tears of yours," he said, and much to his luck his displeased tone sounded marginally convincing.

The woman sitting across from him gasped in shock. "Badou!" she barked, her authoritative tone returning a bit. "How dare you say such things! I care for Nill as much as I care for all of my children! And because you and Heine are both under my employment you both have to deal with being part of that category! Usually when Heine disappears for a few days we at least see him. But we've seen neither hide nor bloody hair of him! Now damn it, Badou, have you seen him or not?"

Badou rose angrily, glaring down at the old woman as aggression bubbled through his blackened veins. "I'm not his God damned babysitter, alright? So what if I haven't seen him? His ass isn't mine to take care of!" he growled down at her, striding off towards the door before he riled up even more of a ruckus. He pulled the door shut behind him, slamming it on purpose as he stormed down the street.

He glanced up, looking around for a clock until his eyes finally settled on a TV outlet place, where the news ran on twenty different vintage TVs, yet somehow in relatively high definition. He ignored the lack of coherency, and looked down at the tickertape.

He swore to himself, walking as swiftly as he could away from the old broad's side of town. He'd already wasted an hour and a half getting there, and all for nothing. He grumbled again, slinging his jacket back over his shoulders as the chill returned. He would be pissed if the old fox made him late for his job with Suma, but something told him that if he was late, Suma would be more than happy to pay the old woman hell.

* * *

The wind whispered in the underground. It talked to people, accompanied them on their slow walk to oblivion. It made friends and enemies, and flourished through those that followed it. But as Badou Nails stood before the front steps of the church, he couldn't help but think that whispering voice in his head a little too loud.

He lit up a smoke, taking a deep drag and hoping the damn chill he'd been stuck with all day would just up and go away. Btu as he sat waiting, his cigarette smoldering just inches away from his lips, he knew that luck was against him. The sky had grown dark above the underground, and a storm was probably fast approaching. Maybe that was why it was getting so cold below. As he remembered from some long past science class, heat rose and cold sank. And there deep within the shadows of the underground, it didn't take much imagination as to why it was so cold all of the time.

When he looked up from his dazed glance at nothing in particular, he was greeted with the small form of Nill peeking out of the front door of the church. She looked happy for a moment, to see him. But he just gazed dully back at her, and her little candle of warmth went out. He should have felt bad, but for all that had happened today, he couldn't make himself do it.

Thankfully, before he even had to explain himself under the small girl's expectant gaze, he heard the sharp clip of a long stride in high heels. He looked in the direction where he heard the noise from, and noted with a bit softer gaze that it was Suma. She was in a longer trench coat, today. It reached just past her knees, where her smooth shins began their long descent to her feminine ankles. Her hair was done up in a messily attractive style, her face an airbrushed picture of perfect complexion. She held a small, black leather briefcase in one hand, a silver bracelet dangling against the back of her hand. On the other hand she bore a ring that for some reason looked very familiar to Badou. It was polished silver, a strange flat band with small details that he knew he had seen from somewhere.

"_Good evening, Mr. Nails,_" she said, and she smiled warmly at him as she stopped a few steps away from him. All thoughts of the ring were gone from his mind. "_Are you prepared for tonight's endeavors?_"

He nodded mildly, whisking his cigarette over to the corner of his mouth and asking, "Is that the briefcase?" he asked, wondering how such a small parcel could hold a sniper rifle. Even the ones he had seen that could be taken apart and fit into briefcases required much bigger briefcases.

Suma nodded, and she held it out to him. "_Indeed it is. I'll explain the details of that later, when we're in the proper setting. All you need to be aware of now is our apparent alibi._" When he stood silent for a moment, looking expectantly at her, she continued. "_You and I have an apparently platonic business relationship. You are my accountant, and we have become quite close. Our idea is that this whole night is a romantic date. We will have a box seat to ourselves for that purpose. At one point in the opera we will close the curtains and appear to be… shall we say, busy with other endeavors. Up until that point, the only guidance you need from me is to act the sexy man that you look._"

Badou's ears warmed at her last comment, and for the first time all day he didn't feel like crap. He felt like now that he had a task at hand he had a purpose to fulfill. "I think," he said, taking the briefcase from her, and offering his arm for her, "that I can manage that task."

She dipped her arm through his, clasping her pale hands together in front of her and smiling in a mischievous way. He glanced down at her pale hands, nothing with interest that her fingernails, long and well kept like any lady's should be, were painted a deep red. A crimson that glittered in the half light of the dying evening in the same way that her ring glittered, it looked warm, almost, as her skin did. Both were well kept, beautiful, and warm.

Smooth, the both of them, akin to the sheen blood gave before it evaporated in the late hours of the night.

By the time they got to the opera house, water was trickling in from the Upper City, beginning its slow descent into the sewers underneath the Underground. It was warm inside the stately building, rich colors heavily laden on every inch of the interior that could be reached. Gold carvings decorated the doorways, mingling leaf-like patterns cast in red and yellow upon the carpet beneath their feet.

They stepped past the box office, and Badou stood back and took Suma's coat from her, revealing a scandalously bare pair of shoulders. Her sleek dress hugged her curves, beginning and ending at just the right places for it to be barely appropriate. She then hooked his arm again, and they made their way to where the ticket collectors stood waiting in primly starched suits.

When they strode up, one of them immediately straightened his barely slouching posture. He smiled a bit thinly at Suma, saying in a nervously polite tone, "Ms. Suma! What a lovely surprise. I… hadn't expected to see you here tonight."

She smiled at him, which obviously scared him all the more, as he almost tumbled backward over himself. Badou mentally chuckled, but kept his calm reverie in place as he looked at his partner expectantly, not relenting in the act they were both now immersed in.

"_I know what they say about this play, Mr. Evans. They say that TOSCA isn't for everyone, but I'd at least like to try the waters before I dump them out,_" she said, a luxurious smile on her face as she leaned a bit into Badou. He put an arm around her shoulders and smiled at the poor lackey, who at that point looked about to faint.

"_Oh, dear me,_" she said, glancing at Badou with a gentle smile and a wink, "_I haven't even properly introduced you two. Mr. Evans, this is my… accountant, Mr. Nails. Mr. Nails, this is an employee of a… shall we say competitor of mine. I believe Mr. Smith is in attendance tonight, is he not?_"

The man gave a curt nod, obviously not bothering to note that Badou was probably a hell of a lot younger than he was. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Nails. And yes, Ms. Suma, I do believe Mr. Smith is in tonight. But I do not believe he will be in his box seat this evening."

Suma let her smile remain as she handed him their tickets. "_A pity,_" she said, leading the two of them into the crowds assembling about the doors to the theater, "_I had meant to speak with him about something before. I suppose I shan't have the time this evening then._"

The young employee stared blankly at them as they strode away, and Badou looked at Suma. Instead of asking the question that was on the tip of his tongue, he swallowed it. He knew that now they were in a very public setting, it would not be the best time to discuss their "business". But as she led him up to where the box seats were, he knew that his swallowed question would not have to wait for long.

Retrieving a key out of somewhere Badou had failed to notice (a place where his imagination was surely able to guess the location), Suma opened a small door labeled "201" in gold metal lettering. They stepped inside, where a small personal room stood waiting. There were about six seats up near the front, where a balcony jutted out above the rest of the crowd. A small stone railing ran around the edge of the balcony, and set of red velvet curtains hung restrained by gold braided rope on either side. A small bar stood behind the seats, and as Suma checked the fridge along with Badou's train of thought, she found it full.

Striding forward and setting her coat across the top of the bar, setting the briefcase carefully on top of it, Badou looked down at the assembling crowd. He glanced back at the door, pushing it shut for the sake of the noise factor. Which, now that the five minute warning had been given, was now increased to an almost unpleasant high.

Suma looked back at him, beckoning him up to where she stood by the balcony railing. He sauntered up, putting a hand on her back and leaning down to listen to her as she leaned in close. This kind of acting he could surely do as a profession… which, under the circumstances he seemed to be in, he already was.

"_Do you see that white-haired man down near the front over on the opposite side of the auditorium?_" she asked, glancing down in the general direction as Badou's lone eye followed. When he spotted the man he nodded slightly. The man was old, so his pale hair was not as out-of-place as he was used to.

"_That's Mr. Smith, your target for this evening. During Act 1 of TOSCA there is a cannon shot fired. I'll give you a specific cue when the time comes. But shortly into the play we will close the curtains, and appear to be busy. You will then assemble the gun, peek just enough through the curtains to see Mr. Smith, and on my cue, get rid of him,_" she said, leaning back and patting him on the shoulder. He leaned back as well, giving a plastic smile to her as the lights dimmed around them.

They took their seats, sitting down next to each other and staring intently at the stage. But even as Suma leaned into him, Badou couldn't help but feel like he really didn't want her to touch him. It wasn't that he was afraid… he'd done jobs as such thousands of times. But something seemed so wrong about the whole thing. The bad morning, the cold, Granny Liza, Nill, Suma's ring, her nails, and the man with white hair… something was just terribly wrong.

But as the play started and the house was silenced, Badou couldn't help but try to convince himself that the money would be worth it. It would erase all of those things that seemed wrong, rid his mind of his petty troubles and free him from the life he had trundled along in for so long.

Or so he hoped.

* * *

The next half an hour seemed to stretch on for years. It was a dull, flop of a show, and he couldn't help but wonder what the hell people saw in it. It bored the hell out of him, and how it managed not to do that to the rest of the audience was a marvel in itself.

And when the time came that Suma finally tapped him on the hand, he looked over at her, smiling with honest glee. To rid himself of this boring play was a blessing, and he was more than ready for the job they had come here to do. He leaned over to her, as she coyly made to whisper wanton ideas into his ear that he vaguely wished were actually their plan.

He nodded in agreement with what she was supposed to have been saying, standing up and reaching over to pull on the gold cord that contained the curtains. The large pieces of fabric fell together in a hushed _swish_, and immediately Suma was up, striding back to the bar and pulling the parts of his gun out of the briefcase. She assembled the gun quickly, and with such expertise that Badou couldn't help but wonder if she had used one before. These things weren't simple to do after all, and in all likelihood he probably could have done it no faster himself.

"_Now,_" Suma said, her sultry voice in a low whisper, "_once you've fired your shot, there is some chance that you may be seen or heard. If that's the case we won't have much time to clean up after ourselves. But, if things work out according to plan, they should not discover his untimely circumstances for at least a moment or two. And we'll have several more when they try to start herding people out of the theater before things rise into a panic. The plan is that once you've completed your shot, you are to hand the gun to me, as I will disassemble the parts and slip them back into the briefcase, then you are to act along your part of a pair of wanton lovers, innocently ignorant of the goings on outside. Understand?_" She looked up at him expectantly, holding the assembled and loaded sniper rifle out to him as the muffled tones of the opera whispered in through the velvet curtains.

Nodding only once, Badou took the gun from her. It was heavy in his hands, and unfamiliar. He was so used to his handguns that it felt like it weighed a ton. But he strode over to the balcony anyway, wedging himself onto the floor and settling himself and the gun against the floor. Suma strode silently over and sat down next to him, holding open the red curtains just barely enough as to be able to see his target. He settled his good eye behind the sight and waited, knowing that Suma would tell him when to shoot.

In the seconds he had before his shot he didn't dare spare glances towards the stage. Strange, how something that had bored him before now seemed interesting. He wanted to know that they were saying, most of all, because with all the loud belting they did he could barely tell. But something seemed to be happening, in contrast to the rest of the play. But he ignored it, keeping his emerald eye locked on the head of white hair that he was soon to be dying a rather unwholesome red.

"_Get ready, Badou,_" Suma said, and she leaned forward a bit as he readied himself against the trigger. The seconds ticked by, and in a soft voice that broke the silence with ghostly reverie, his employer commanded, "_Shoot._"

Pulling the trigger in the exact moment that she specified, Badou was thankful for doing it when she had instructed him, for a cannon's fire went off so loud throughout the theater that he was sure he would have been startled. Suma pulled the gun from his hands, and he stood, leaning away from the railing.

He didn't want to know what was going down on there anymore.

Pulling at his suit sleeve, his mistress pulled him up towards the bar, where she hastily took apart the gun in question, shoving it into the briefcase and zipping the black leather back together before a word could be said in edge wise. But as she rose, Suma began to do something strange.

She began to muss herself up.

Her perfectly coifed hair she ruffled into disarray, pulling her dress in certain places to make it look wrinkled, and generally trying very hard to make herself look like she had just had a go around with a drunken sailor.

Only belatedly did Badou realize that _he_ was the drunken sailor that was to have messed her up. And although he tried to resist the impulsion, he blushed furiously at the idea.

"_Come on,_" Suma said, pulling the poor Cyclops towards the bar and all but flinging him on it. "_We don't have much time._"

Badou never got the chance to ask her what exactly she meant by that. Because in the span of the next moment, she had risen onto the bar with him, sliding her body fluidly against his and proceeded to all but attack his face with a mess of consuming kisses.

When at last his mind got over the shock of being kissed by a woman, the idea finally reached him that this was part of the act. And that his side, though the receiving end for sure, was not playing its part all too well. Pulling his stray thoughts together, Badou fought with something within him to reciprocate to this small act. But as well as he was sure to be acting, something clashed so violently within his mind that he almost stopped completely.

And when his mind realized what it was, he just about kicked himself.

Upon slight examination of his discomfort, he came to realize that the main prospect of the entire situation that seemed to bother him was the fact that Suma's hips didn't fit. He supposed not in the manner of size or width… it just seemed like she was a puzzle piece that just wasn't ever going to fit in the place that he wanted her to.

But what infuriated him all the more was the memory of the one person he'd met whose hips _had_ fit.

And, unfortunately for his beleaguered mind, that person was Heine.

He swore to himself, trying to push his acting while the memories came meandering back. They'd been on a mission for Granny Liza, on some night train investigation that had gone terribly awry. The train, as it turned out, had in fact been sabotaged as Granny Liza's reports had indicated. A small explosive had been planted on the tracks, and had detonated while they were on the train itself. The explosion had rocked the train off of its tracks, sending them spiraling through the underground tunnels, crashing into the stone walls as the mass of the train propelled it until the chaotic ride finally came to a stop.

But the ride hadn't ended there. When Badou had cleared the hair from his eyes, and looked through the shower of sparks that spat out from the train's ceiling panels every time a parting charge tried to pass through them, he had caught sight of his partner, in every right, skewered through the chest by a piece of what had once been railing. He was lying on his side, on the floor that somehow, by some way of luck was still a floor and not a ceiling, blood dripping from his wound and also oozing from a laceration on his head.

Badou was sure he hadn't looked to hot then either, but Heine had definitely shouldered the worst of it. Even though Badou knew then that nothing could kill Heine, he couldn't help scrambling over to him and talking at him worriedly. He knew that Heine wasn't exactly in the condition to answer, but it helped calm his nerves anyway. He had all but had to tear the metal piping from Heine's stomach, and he looked away as he did, knowing that then of all times would have been the worst to choose to look at the wound. He would look at it in the morning… or when, if ever, a retrieval team came down to fix the problem. Then he would look at the damage, then he would survey the carnage and get he information Liza wanted.

But at that time, he just wanted to wait until he knew his partner would be alright.

He couldn't do it with him, but eh more than certainly couldn't do it without him.

So he had pulled Heine to him, burying his face in the crook of Heine's collared jacket as their shoulders shared their weight. He hadn't realized it, but when had fallen asleep after hours of waiting, he had pulled Heine down on top of him, holding tight to that black jacket even in his sleep.

He had awoken stomach to stomach with the one person he never thought he would. Heine was still out when he had awoken, luckily, and so he had hastily removed himself from the awkward, yet strangely comforting position. Heine had woken about an hour later, at which point he kicked the door down himself and they continued their work, gone and done before the police even arrived.

But it wasn't until now that Badou realized just why Heine had been so comfortable. His hips had been bony, yes, but their angle, their shape; they had just fit into course with his like a piece of a puzzle that just fell into place and fit perfectly.

With Suma, that was not the case.

Before he had time to analyze his misfortunes further, a cacophonous, pounding knock came raging against their door, the same ticket collector he had met earlier bursting through with a panicked expression. He looked at the young man in mock surprise, Suma gasping and jumping up to snatch her coat from beneath him.

Badou stood, putting an arm around her and staring concernedly at the young man as he blushed.

"Sorry to interrupt, Ms. Suma, but I'm afraid that we must evacuate the building. There has been an incident on the main floor that dictates the premises must be evacuated immediately," Mr. Evans said, a polite blush on his face despite his serious features.

Picking up his briefcase, Badou nodded, leading Suma forward by her shoulders and escorting her out of the room as Mr. Evans darted to the other box seats, where other guests were already beginning to exit.

There was no suspicion to be found as they walked out of the opera house, and no guilt to be associated as they disappeared into the dark streets, Suma's ghost like laugh echoed in their absence.

* * *

Badou was quiet for a long while before he spoke to Suma again. She was carrying the briefcase now, her coat once again covering her immaculate beauty in the shady tones of night. "So," he began, continuing and trying not to sound to down, "I take it you'll be paying me tomorrow, then?"

Suma nodded, smiling back at him in an all too gleeful way. Killing a man didn't really bother him: he'd done it dozens of times. Just that memory that kept repeating itself in his head was the only point of worry he had at the moment. "_Of course, Badou. I'll arrange for your pay to be delivered to the place of your next job, which I'll tell you about in the morning. Until then, just enjoy the prospect of doing a job well done._"

She laughed then, a loud chuckle that made him jump a bit. She then looked at him, a leering glimmer in her eyes and a twisted smile on her cupid's bow lips. "_You know what they say, Badou: joke with the fools, but leave the saints in heaven! I'll see you tomorrow. Good night, and sweet dreams._"

And with that she turned from him, disappearing into an alley as a chilly breeze picked up around him. He pulled his tuxedo coat closer, walking back into the night that generally led back to the flat where he dwelled. His gaze lowered, and for a long time he didn't look up.

Only the gray lines of cracking cement amused his line of sight, until at last it was a sound that drew his attention away from the dawns long past.

It was the sound of footsteps to draw his gaze up, as they sounded from a place not far behind him, clipping along at a hastened pace. As he listened, he realized that whoever it was had either a very familiar sounding set of shoes, or a very familiar sounding step.

He looked around, now curious to see who it was that seemed to be sprinting alone in the late hours of the night. For a moment he feared he had been dreaming, for though the footsteps persisted, there was no source to be seen of them. But then at last a burst of movement erupted from an alley half a block behind him, and a streak of black sprinted across the road.

But the predominant feature that identified the figure immediately, was the head of white unruly hair, and the flash of red eyes in the riddled darkness.

It was Heine.

And in the moment just before Badou was about to call out to him, unreasonably glad at the albino's sudden appearance, his companion was gone. Disappeared into the opposite alley without a second's glance. But even from his distance away Badou knew that something had been amiss. Heine was never someone to be identified as afraid. He didn't to petrified: he did surprised, then a mix of psychotic. But the look that he bore was fear: pure, unhinged, unrelenting fear.

And even though Badou knew little of what Heine had been doing before his appearance, he had with dismay noted one feature about his friend. His hand, one of the few parts of pale skin that had been visible, was a bloody, mangled red.

But as Badou stood alone in that darkened street, listening no more to the sound of Heine's hurried footsteps, and seeing no longer the face he had grown so accustomed to, he wondered with dread if one of Heine's rings was missing, and that if it was, if its location was where the investigator believed it to be.

To that end, he no longer hoped.

* * *

Finally! This chapter took forever! I know that I haven't updated all summer, and I feel really bad and apologize for doing so. But now I'm back and I have a plan of attack. As mentioned above, there is a time frame in which all of these chapters happen. (one week to be exact) And each chapter references to one day. By the end of this series, all of the mystique, confusion, and clues will be explained and revealed. Actually, most of that will probably come in the second to last chapter. But, NOTE: there is a part in the last chapter that I am debating on whether or not to include. If I did include it, the rating for this story would jump from "T" to "M". The scene in question is a yaoi scene (lemon in flavor) between Badou and Heine. (If, mind you, I have the skill to write it.) Now, depending on any opinions that I may get, I will decide on whether or not to include it. Please let me know what you think, and as the story goes along feel free to give input, or change your mind if you so choose. Thanks for reading, and best of luck.

8-90's love,

crypto


	4. Fugitive Pieces

-Hello again, everyone, it's time again for the newest chapter of _Gilded Silver_. Hopefully you haven't grown bored with this story yet, as I'm quite enjoying it myself. I'm still considering the potential "bits" of the last chapter, so any and all input on that would be helpful. If you don't know what those "bits" are, go consult the AN in the last chapter and read up. More often than not they do actually have something important to say. In any case, I'm going to trundle along until then and make the decision based on the input I get as I go. My general plan thus far is to post the last chapter without the "tasty bits" for the readers that would prefer it without, then post the chapter with the "tasty bits" after. It will in essence be the same chapter, just including a cut scene. If you have any other questions please feel free to ask me, as I don't bite hard or very often.

* * *

Fugitive Pieces

Badou Nails awoke the next morning to the sound of rain pattering against his window. His blanket was tangled about him in a worried mess, and his eyes stung as he blinked himself blearily awake. And as his consciousness returned to him, he realized that he had a rather uncomfortable lead weight sitting on his chest, and a dull ache that penetrated the tar-coated recesses of his heart.

As much as Badou Nails hated to admit it, something was terribly, terribly wrong.

He got up slowly, untangling himself from the knot his frantic sleep had put him into, and sitting for a long time on the edge of his bed, contemplating over an invisible cigarette hanging on his lips. Eventually he wandered to the shower, lazily scrubbing himself clean and eventually making his way fully clothed and marginally bathed to his front door.

Though, he realized as he grasped the handle to his door, he had no idea where he intended to go.

The thought crossed his mind to go and call Suma, as she was probably expecting him sometime that day. But something settled so ill with him that he physically paled at the thought. And seeing as he had no grasp of what time it was or when he was supposed to call her, he pushed aside the idea and decided to find something else to occupy his time if only for a while.

He left his apartment in a lethargic reverie, locking the door and pulling his hood up as he wandered out into the rain with a grim line carved out of cold marble for a smile. The landlord was not around it seemed, or was perhaps not awake yet, for there was no question cast at him for the previous day's shenanigans. Maybe he wouldn't be losing his apartment today, but it was not a long stretch for the imagination to suggest that he would be losing it soon because of his brash behavior displayed previously.

The sky was an ominous steel color as he ventured outside, the chilling rain falling in thick curtains of piercing droplets that would have stung had he not been partially covered, he was sure. He looked off into the distance, or at least what he could see of it with the interference of the city blocking his view, and noted that no hint of a blue or morning sky could be seen around the wet threat hovering over the city.

And for the first time since Badou could remember, he wondered what the rain would be like outside of the city. He wondered if it would be prettier, warmer, a welcome thing rather than a despicable omen. He dropped the thought like the water dropped from his coat, knowing there was no use in hoping for something he himself had no use for. Instead he trudged his way along the streets, making in a general way towards the church. He didn't know what exactly to call the urge to go there, only a vague hope at perhaps some peace of mind and a warm place to just be.

He walked without thinking, his eyes glued to his feet as they led him to the place he knew so well. Across the cracks in the streets that had become familiar he passed with no thought or recognition. It was all just the same pantone chart of grays and blacks, blending together in a melancholy kaleidoscope that only seemed to deepen the shady hole he had sat himself in.

When at last his boot-clad foot stubbed one of the steps leading up to the church, he began to emerge from the pit, the dark abyss getting smaller and smaller as he climbed the steps, the winged angels greeting him almost warmly, as if they were joyous at the sight of his return. And even though Badou had never been one for all of that church mumbo-jumbo, he couldn't help but feel a bit less hopeless as he stepped into the stone sanctuary.

A rush of warm air greeted him as he opened the grandiose door, and a small smile graced his lips as he closed the barrier behind him, letting the heat settle across his cold, and now rather soaked clothes. He strode in, his footfalls echoing across the grand arches of the church and bouncing back at him playfully.

"Oi!" he called, enjoying how loud, and strangely jovial his voice sounded. "Bishop! You still here, or have you flown the coop yet?"

A quiet stirring reached his ears, and his smile grew as he watched both the Bishop and Nill emerge from one of the back doorways. The small angel girl waved at him happily, dashing her way over to him as the old man merely adjusted the placement of his blacked-out glasses.

"Why on earth would I fly from my own coop, Mr. Nails? You don't seem to be making much sense," he said, his voice dripping with his usual sly undertone, but filled with what Badou thought to be pleasure at the sight of him. Even the Bishop, his own words seemingly betraying him, was happy to see him.

The poor smoker only had a minute to spare before he was bombarded by the small bundle of black lace, her enthusiasm nearly knocking both of them to the ground. He smiled down at her, patting her on top of the head. He could see why Haine liked her. She was like a puppy, always smiling, always happy, and always pleased to see you whenever you were there. It was kind of… heartwarming, in a way, to know that someone out there was always happy to see him.

When at last the two had regained their balance, Nill backed away, drawing out a small notepad from the front of her small white apron. And idea that, ironically enough, Haine had given her a while back. Such was the case that if she ever needed to ask someone something, she could just write it on the paper and show it to them. As it seemed, she had been quite taken with it, and had stuck to it religiously, so to speak.

Digging around for a small pen and scribbling something down on the pad, she flipped it around to show it to the red head standing in front of her.

"_Where have you been?"_ it said, and he smiled warmly, patting her on the head.

"I've just been really busy with work lately," he said, shrugging as some shadowy feeling tried settling on his chest. "I'm sorry that I haven't come in to see you," he added, feeling like for the first time in days he actually meant what he said.

She looked at him curiously, her head tilted to one side as she picked up the pad again, scribbling out the previous question and writing under it swiftly, _"Why didn't you come in last night?"_

Some deep-rooted muscle clenched in the core of Badou's body. "I was meeting someone," he said stiffly, sitting down on one of the pews as an overwhelming sense of vertigo clamored behind his eyes. "I… guess I just didn't feel like it." He felt like his stomach was in his throat, and he swallowed hollowly in an attempt to return it to its rightful place.

Nill's look only grew more curious, and she once again set to writing on her small notepad. _"Why didn't they come?"_ she had asked, and his eyebrows knitted in confusion. What did she mean by that? Deciding that just staring at the small pad wouldn't help, he vocalized his question.

Nill scribbled a bit on the pad as she responded. _"You just stood there for a long time. After a while you talked to yourself, and then walked off."_

Badou stared dumbfounded at the small pad of paper, trying to think of some logical explanation for what Nill had supposedly seen, or apparently not seen. He shook his head, looking up at her as he said, "But that can't be right. The person I was supposed to meet showed up right on time. Didn't you see her?"

Nill shook her head.

Badou shook his head in reply. That couldn't be right. Suma had been right there. He had seen her, her nails her coat, the briefcase, it had all been there, he was sure. Something wasn't right, wasn't adding up… none of it did. Why wouldn't Nill have seen her? She was rather hard to miss, by any standard of the human mind.

As Badou sat fretting with himself, he failed to notice that Nill had once again picked up her pad of paper, and was scribbling down a short message with a worried expression on her face. When she finally held up the small pad, Badou was snapped back to attention. He glanced at the writing, reading over it with slow deliberation.

"_Have you seen Heine?"_

The gunner froze at the lightly written question, a tickling chill fluttering down his spine. The image of Heine's distant, painfully panicked face flickered in his memories, and he took a long, deep breath.

"Yeah," he said honestly, and he saw a flicker of happiness in Nill's eyes dwindle at his serious tone. She looked at him worriedly, waiting with baited breath for him to explain.

He did not want to.

"I saw him last night," he said, and he looked down at his wet shoes, not able to will himself to look at the small girl and what was to surely be her heartbroken look in the span of the next few minutes. "He was running," he continued stiffly. "I don't know where to or where from, and I don't know why, but…" his voice rasped to a dry, grainy halt. A desert blossomed to life in his throat, and his voice could no longer find its way out through the tremulous heat and perilous grains of sand.

"He looked afraid."

He spared a hazy, green-eyed glance at Nill, and immediately regretted it. The look on her face was aghast, a mix between horror and melancholy disrupting her typically joyous features. He could understand her feelings without even having to ask her. If Heine was afraid, it meant that there was something grievously wrong. If Heine was afraid, there was more than definitely something to be afraid of. But as neither of them had seen him face to face for the past few days, they had little to no hope of finding him to protect him, a pursuit that Nill, despite her size, had taken up rather bravely.

Seeming to come to a minute conclusion, the small girl grasped at her pad again, her knuckles white and trembling dangerously, writing down on it one last question. _"Would you go and look for him?"_ She had asked, and Badou sighed. His initial reaction was to politely deny her, to say that he had better things to do and places he would rather be, but the truth, as he realized with an almost painful jolt, was that there was nothing he could think of that he would rather be doing. There was nothing better that he had to do, nothing that could take precedence over this, no excuse he could give to refuse the quest to find his partner.

They were partners after all, it was only right that he assist in the search for him.

"Sure," he said to the younger girl, and a hopeful smile lit up her face. Something warm kindled in him then, a licking flame that spread like brushfire all the way down to his fingertips. Despite being soaked from head to toe, he felt warm, and as if he were on the verge of doing something right for the first time in days.

He rose from his seat on the pew, patting the young girl on the top of her head as he rearranged his clothing a bit. He smiled down at her with a genuine tilt to his mouth.

"I don't know if I'll be back today, but I'll come in tomorrow morning and let you know what I found, alright?" he asked, and Nill nodded happily in agreement. She stepped forward and hugged him again, and he patted her shoulder comfortingly. She had no need for the pad this time; it was a clear enough thank you.

Stepping out of her grasp, Badou waved over his shoulder as he made for the door. "I'll see you later then. Try not to cause too much trouble, Bishop! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

And before the poor blind man could utter a reply, he escaped out the door. Back out on the streets again, he looked around, wondering where on earth to start searching for his poor haphazard companion. He decided that Haine's apartment would be the best place to start.

With as much haste as he could manage, he began his journey. Although, he had to admit to himself that he did not know in truth what he expected to find. There were many possibilities. One of the most probable was a very pissed off, and tired albino. That would make him the most at ease, and probably Nill as well, knowing for sure that Haine had just been at home and unable to sleep. Another distinct option was that he would find nothing at all.

This option did not sit well with him, even unconfirmed. If he found nothing at all, then the apparition he saw last night would be the only proof he had to go off of. And though it was some form of proof, it was not enough to ease the tension in his blackened heart.

His stride quickened then, and he plowed through the rain with only fleeting thoughts in mind as he made towards an end he could not see, hear, or feel. He could only hope for it, though in their city, hope was but a figment to be envied, and envied headily, as it often purposefully skirted around those who needed it most.

And at that moment, there was no one who needed it more than he.

* * *

The emptiness of Haine's apartment did nothing for the sake of Badou's nerves. And as he sat, surely looking more pitiful than he cared to realize, on the front step, he realized that he was trying to do something that was impossible in every sanctum of sanity he could think of. Because, surely, trying to catch Haine was like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands with a blindfold on.

He sighed, finally giving up on his trembling shred of hope and digging around his soaked pockets in search of a cig. Once he had the small stick between his lips, he let out a long sigh. Though the thing wasn't even lit, he could still smell the nicotine wafting up to his nostrils.

He looked down at the checkered tiles that sat in front of Haine's apartment. They were the same black and white checkers that adorned Haine's floor on the inside, but somehow they seemed so distant from each other. As if in spite of the fact that only a door, a measly key wedged under a missing part of the doorframe, separated them, they seemed to be miles, eons, perhaps even galaxies away from each other.

And, as he felt a slow ache gnaw at the pit between his ribs, he felt as if he and Haine were now that far away as well.

Having given up on even lighting his cigarette, Badou tried to think back. He had been so avid leaving the church, so determined to find Haine. But why? What enthusiasm had lightened his load back then and yet weighed him down now? Because Nill had asked him to, that was why. That was the entire reason he was there, he thought. But something pulled at him then, and it felt like a wrinkle had just formed between the time he was wasting now, and the time that had already passed the day before.

Why had he gone to Granny Liza's yesterday?

To check in on Haine.

But why had he wanted to check in on Haine?

Because Nill had asked him to.

Badou grasped at his head as an onslaught of thoughts flooded his already troubled mind. Had he really done all that running around for Nill yesterday? But, that was completely impossible. He hadn't seen Nill for five days before today! How could he have gone and done something for her sake when he had no idea at that time what she wanted? Unless Nill had suddenly become psychic and had begun channeling her wishes into him, there was no physical way he could have known that she wanted to look for Haine.

Could he have perhaps been looking for Haine because _he_ wanted to? That reality wouldn't have scared him nearly as much if he knew it not to be true. He had specifically thought yesterday to look for Haine because _Nill_ had asked him to.

The world seemed to ripple as he sat there with his head in his hands, the black and white tiles spinning as comprehension seemed to slip in and out of his grasp. What was this?

He didn't care to think any longer on the matter, feeling a heady panic rise in his chest at the mere thought of doing so. But why be afraid? He would ask himself later, of knowing the truth? He couldn't answer even then, but all he knew at the time was that panic invoked fear, and fear told him to run.

There was no time measurable by the human scale to measure exactly how quickly he left Haine's apartment building. He could have spent hours running for all he knew, for surely as heavy as his limbs were they were sure to be made of pure lead. But it could have been a pair of split seconds that measured his retreat, for surely as much unadulterated panic he felt would have pushed his body to extremes a genius, though he never would be one, could never hope to comprehend.

The only thing he could remember between the time he left Haine's apartment and the time he realized that he was standing in the phone booth was the rain.

It was still slanting down from the sky as it had all day, and it was only the fact that it hadn't stopped that frequented Badou's troubled mind. And though his mind could only be described as blank from his devil's chase sprint, there was no comfort in the roaring exhaustion that was trolling through him. There was only a subconscious strain to keep going, even when his fretting thoughts no longer remembered why in the first place he had run. Only one question repeated itself over and over in the complex courses of his mind:

What was this?

Closing his eyes and leaning dejectedly against the inside of the small glass container, Badou let his thrashing mind settle. But it was not a peaceable settling, like murky water clearing after a few moments. It was a deadly, silent settle, like a fish that only after suffocating stopped thrashing in its attempt to return to the water.

In a mechanical motion he dug through his pockets, cradling the receiver against his face as he slipped in the coins and dialed a familiar number. He felt like an addict, caught in the beginnings of withdrawals. He was crawling back to his vice, yellow belly to the ground as he quailed before that which he could not understand in favor of what he thought he could comprehend.

"_I was beginning to wonder when you would call, Badou_," Suma's velvety voice purred as the monotone ringing ceased. "_I was almost getting worried._"

He felt no sympathy for her.

"Yeah," he said quietly, feeling a bit too nihilistic for his own purposes. He should have been more polite, but he was so shell-shocked that he couldn't bring it out of himself to do it. "Sorry about that. I, uh, had some things that I had to do. Didn't mean to mess anything up for you."

"_Tut, tut, Badou_," she said, and he felt a sickening knot in his throat. All of a sudden her endearing words seemed _too_ sweet. They seemed condescending, now. Like arsenic laced into the sweetest of wines. "_You needn't worry your pretty head over such things. I have work for you no matter what time of day it is._"

He grunted quietly, not at all feeling too gratified by such treatment. How had he been so enchanted by it days before? It was so… unrealistic, this fragile complimenting. It was frail and lacy, a harsh throw back to times that were too long past to be mourned. Times of gold-leaf trim so covered in dust and rubble that they didn't even exist anymore.

"That's good," he said, knowing how lame he must have sounded, his tone of voice sounding dull even to himself. "So what did you want me to do today?"

She chuckled coyly, but he was no more amused than before. Compared to this, he would have been quite happy with one of Haine's brusque phone calls. In fact, he was almost wishing for it now, but as the vision of Haine's checkered floor and the dull thrum of shock still rumbling through his chest, he decided to opt with what he had always done: take the simpler road and spare himself, the selfish info-broker that he'd always been.

"_I can't speak of such things over an open phone line, Badou,_" she said, "_Why don't you meet me at the train station by the ticket kiosk and I'll give you your assignment then? Would that suit you?"_

"Sure," he said, even though the shady undertone in her voice bid him desperately to refuse. Perhaps it was intended to frighten him into submission, but he couldn't make assumptions with such a roiling confusion still aching at the back of his skull.

He needed the money, it was that simple.

* * *

He had his hood up over his head as he waited in the train station. His hair was almost a dead giveaway for anyone in the underground that knew him, so it was a safe bet to say that he would be spotted if he didn't cover it up. He didn't know why, but he didn't want to see anybody he might have known. He didn't want to be associated with whatever it was Suma's business did, despite the blatant fact that it was nothing he hadn't seen before.

There was just something about it that made his stomach churn, and he felt absolutely green in the face at even having to hear her voice.

He leaned against the bright yellow plastic of the old ticket kiosk, scratching absently at the lint in his pockets and considering just leaving. But his legs didn't share his favor, and planted him where he stood.

"_I didn't expect you to be here so quickly._"

He turned to face his employer, afraid at being sick upon the sight of her. But as he glanced over at her, he found his fears dulled. She was dressed simply for once, a trim pair of black trousers reaching over her tall heels. A deep red sweater with an intricately knit design hung loosely over her shoulders. Her hair was hidden under a knit cap of similar color, contrasting her blue eyes almost painfully. But her sharp features were gentle for once, softer than they used to be as she looked on him with something akin to sympathy.

A part of his mind wondered if crocodiles could sympathize.

"_I'm sorry I've kept you waiting,_" she said, walking over to him with easy, clicking strides. "_You don't look at all too well, Badou. Are you sure you're alright?"_

He nodded weakly, feeling a bit less topsy-turvy than before. All of the apprehension he had been feeling melted, and he remembered then why he kept coming back to this. Vaguely. "I'll be alright. I'm just not up for another night on the town."

Suma nodded, strands of her silvery hair rolling down over her forehead. "_Well then I have the perfect assignment for you tonight, Badou_," she said gently, handing him a small envelope. "_All you have to do tonight is be a witness. There's a photo in that envelope of a man expected to be on the train this evening. I need you as an alibi to confirm that was there. Do you understand?_"

He nodded numbly, taking the envelope and tucking it into one of his pockets. "You're not coming tonight, are you?" He wasn't sure if he wanted her to or not. His mind was still too addled by everything to think that far ahead.

She shook her head, smiling almost sadly. "_Not tonight Badou, I have some other business to take care of. But when you're done I'd ask that you leave a message at my business and let me know how it went. Or, if you're still not feeling well, you can just call me in the morning and we'll discuss it then._"

"Alright." He sighed, digging out a starving pack of cigarettes and shaking out one of the few remainders. "So I just have to confirm that his guy was on the train?"

Suma nodded, glancing down at her watch as she pulled up her sleeve to glance at it. Badou glanced down at it too, as he had no watch of his own, something that Haine often griped about. But as he glanced down, he realized that the watch she wore was not unfamiliar to him. She still had the rings on one hand, which he still could not place, and now the watch was striking him too.

It was simple. A black leather band and a silver set, with a little black dragon etched into the face, laying asleep under the black hands as they spun forever over it.

"_Yes, that's right,_" Suma said, letting her sleeve fall back down. He didn't even look at what time it was, he had been so busy looking at the damn watch. "_He'll be boarding on the 7:20 train to the Underground. Or at least he should be. The train will be boarding soon, so I recommend you get on first and get the best seat._"

He grumbled something unintelligibly, agreeing in some way or another.

Suma smiled at him again, looking a little less caring than she probably intended. She stepped forward, doing something he never expected her to do. She hugged him, just a short, quick, best-of-luck seeming embrace. Her neck bowed down over his shoulder, as their height difference, even without her heels, was quite substantial. But as the warm gesture settled on him, Badou realized that it was terribly, deathly cold.

He felt as if that, instead of hugging him, she was putting a shiv through his gut.

But before he could do anything, she had let go, straightening back up and walking away with a gentle wave and an almost hurried gait. He stared after her for only a moment, turning away to go redeem his place aboard the chuffing engine now sitting abreast the station. He went without a word, giving his ticket and boarding and seating without so much as a thought.

But as soon as he sat down, and knew that he wouldn't fall down, he let his mind work. He didn't need to concern himself over the mission. He had seen the photo, and his eyes could skim and recognize without him needing to pay entire attention.

He could only think of one time that he and Haine had ever been close to hugging, and it was a dark memory indeed. He closed his eyes for a moment, warding off the sickening clench of his jaw.

The train sabotage case had been a red-letter day compared to this.

Reopening his eyes and gazing at each passenger as they entered, he let his mind's eye recall the memory that seemed so long ago he felt uncharacteristically aged.

It probably hadn't been a month ago. Only about three weeks actually, which, for anyone else, would have given them just enough time to put together a funeral and muddle through those five stages of fuck-my-life… or whatever the hell those psychologists called it nowadays. But, as always, Haine had survived, and prevented any such need for any such occasion.

It had been a close call, for the both of them actually. Badou had barely gotten out with his skin intact, and Haine, even though he'd gotten no such luck, had barely gotten out with his head. After they'd shot out what was left of the building they were assigned to raid, Badou had been forced to go searching for his vagabond partner.

In the end they'd found each other, Haine stumbling along blindly from blood loss and Badou stumbling around from not being able to see anything in the damned darkness of the Underground night. Haine's entire chest looked like a turkey after thanksgiving dinner, or a bad replica of something like that. He had attempted to say something, probably condescending and bitter, but all it ended up as was a rippling gurgle bubbling up his throat.

Badou walked over to him as he coughed, half expecting the albino to spit out the bullets that were surely rattling around in his throat. But the bullets never came, instead replaced by the weakest sounding wheeze that Badou had ever heard from his partner.

"What the hell happened to you?" he had asked, despite having noted Haine's obvious lack of speech capabilities. He often lost all sense after big shoot outs, worn numb by the noise and the adrenaline.

"Some fucker," the still bubbling voice of his partner began, struggling through the blood that dripped past his lips, "knifed me. Knife broke on somethin' inside." He coughed wetly with a grimace on his face. "Now the damn splinters are raisin' hell."

Wincing and looking away as the details of Haine's injury became apparent in the scant light, Badou swallowed hard. He'd never been one for blood and guts, despite his profession. That was Haine's forte, not his.

"Should probably drag your hide home then, huh?" Haine had shot him a withering look, pleading in mockery of his pride. "You think you can walk?"

The buckling of his partners scrawny knees answered his question. Haine swore darkly, trying to push himself back up into a sitting position. His skin, at least over the lesser wounds, was already beginning to heal. But if he kept moving around like he was, the guts he had that were on the verge of falling out would stay there.

Hoisting the almost nonexistent weight of his partner up and over his back, he curled his arms under the back's of the albino's leather clad knees. Haine was even lighter than he expected, despite having a steel spine sutchered into his back. With the paler man's arms draped over his shoulders, he trudged his way out of the building, taking to the back streets he knew so well in the slow trek to Haine's apartment.

Which, conveniently enough, was far closer than his own. And though his moocher-dom was infamous, the spells of coincidence that he encountered were far too good to deny.

"You know you owe me for this, right?" he said over his shoulder as Haine's chin came down to rest on his shoulder, their necks flush against each other. Like another piece in a puzzle he didn't know the picture to. "Like, dinner at _Buon Viaggio_ or a free train ticket to the Underground."

"If you stay overnight," Haine said astutely, even through the muddled tone to his slowly recovering voice, "just make coffee in the morning if you get up first."

The smoker snorted. "You call that mud you drink coffee? I've tasted street sludge that went down easier than that crap!" By which time, Badou realized, Haine had fallen blissfully asleep, ignorant of his friendly jibe as his tampered body set to work on saving his miserly life.

The man from the photo had boarded the train.

Badou had walked the rest of the way to Haine's apartment with no trouble, save for the occasional gust of wind nipping at his heels. He fished the key out from under Haine's doorframe with some trouble, finally having to check the door open with his hip to keep from using Haine's head as a battering ram. And despite the hilarity of that mental image, he decided that waking his partner up anywhere but over the phone was a dangerous place to be.

Kicking the door shut behind him, he slowly slung Haine off his shoulder. Striding up to the lone couch in the small apartment, he all but threw down his partner, the meager weight pressing down on his un-nicotine smothered lungs. The rest of the night awake he spent leaning against the couch with a smoke on his lips, drifting off to sleep vaguely missing the warm spot on his neck.

He got off at the next stop, and thought nothing of making any sort of phone call to anyone. The only thoughts crossing his mind were the memories that played through like a double-feature at the cinema, numbing and distracting from everything he did, and did not want to see.

Including a small smear of blood on the frame of his front door.

* * *

-Well that took forever. I really didn't mean for this chapter to take this long, but things have gotten so busy lately that I've hardly had a chance to write anything. Which is a tragedy considering how much I enjoy it. In any case, I'm upping the rating on this story because of the language, just in case you're wondering. Also, for all of the readers that look at my other fics, I'm going to try to update everything at least once by the end of August, so you can keep a lookout on those in the future. Again, any input on the "tasty bits" in the last chapter would be appreciated, because I could write it both with and without them just as easily, and I'm too nihilistic towards the matter to come to a decision. Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next chapter!


	5. The River

-Yes, I am perfectly aware of the fact that I haven't updated in a while. Yes, I know that you've all been waiting with baited breath for the next chapter of this fic. And, yes, I am going to comply with your demands and give you one. Or, better yet, I'll give you three this month! My goal is to have this fic wrapped up by the end of the summer, and I'm a chapter behind as the end of July draws near, so I have a lot to do in order to catch up! Wish me luck!

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The River

If there was ever such a thing as having a hangover without having ever been drunk, then surely he was living in one. He wasn't keen on the idea of remaining in such a damnable state, but he seemed unable to muddle his way out, no matter how much he struggled against the sludge of calamity that made up the city. He didn't bother counting the pre-dawn hours as they rolled by. They passed like the breath falling out his lips; without hesitance or consequence.

Mihai's kindness was what had let him into _Buon Viaggio_ in the first place, and Kiri's patience had been what allowed him to remain there. It seemed there, with the warm wood paneling and the faint smell of kitchen grease ever present, that reality seemed to exist. The haze about his ears seemed to clear there, like it did in Haine's apartment. And as the sun rose and the morning crowds trickled in, he wished it would remain that way. Unspoiled and clean.

His only thought when his mind returned to him consisted of a deep-rooted fury towards Suma for even placing foot in that place. It was not her realm to invade, and she had no right to latch onto it like the parasite she was. And as the last dregs of his coffee passed on, that writhing anger began to sharpen and take shape. He'd seen the smear of blood on Haine's door… and the lingering spots elsewhere that alluded to something more sinister than he'd have liked to think about. Including a dirty footprint leading up the stairs and onto Haine's floor. A shoe print that looked highly akin to Suma's high heels, and one with a stride that would suit her height alone.

And that only meant one thing: that she had invaded that place too. Now the sanctity of _Buon Viaggio_ and Haine's own apartment was destroyed. And he knew for certain that there could be no other reason for a visitor at Haine's door, as his apartment was the only one on that floor, and the short corridor his door was located on led to nowhere else.

All of his private-eyeing was proving to be more of a curse than a blessing, even if his month-long dream of making more money was being achieved. The only question now was whether or not the price of wealth was worth the price of… whatever it was he would lose. And though he didn't know the gruesome details of what he would be resigning with this newfound wealth, he knew that the idea alone did not sit well.

He wondered how on earth he was supposed to speak with her. She would be expecting him, expecting a call, a telegram, _something_. But the very thought of going near her, or even hearing her voice over the phone… it instilled a quivering cowardice in him that put all of his other foibles to shame.

His only hope now was to find some sanity where it still may exist, and cling to it before the devil came knocking at his door. Leaving his fare and his only refuge behind, he ventured out into the dull sunlight of the early morning. A low-lying haze lay over the tops of the buildings, an iron curtain that existed for the sole purpose of oppressing those beneath it.

He would make his way to the church first, though in hopes of what he could not entirely define. Perhaps it was the shadow of a hope that there would be some trace of his partner there, but he could not be entirely too sure. He'd known before he even agreed to work with the albino that he was prone to bouts of disappearing. But for two days had been the maximum time he'd been unable to get a hold of him; no more. This was slowly beginning to worry him, especially with the slowly descending clues.

He slunk through the alleys of the city, keeping his hood up and his face turned down. A cig sat on his lips, but he puffed on it only halfheartedly. The nicotine wasn't doing much to calm him anymore, and could only hope that would fade away soon enough. He needed to get the edge buffed off his nerves, and nicotine and violence were the only things he knew to do that. And seeing as the nicotine wasn't helping, he knew that a good shoot out would do the trick.

But before he walked into any shoot out, he would need his partner to back him up.

Deciding to take a detour towards the outskirts of town in an attempt to avoid Suma's prying eyes, he meandered past the familiar streets with a haunted gait. He just got the feeling that no matter what hole he crawled into, no matter what shadow he seemed to hide in, she would always be able to find him. He didn't like that feeling, the feeling of being a rat in a maze. It was degrading, or, rather, unnerving how she could always seem to pin him for exactly what he was. Just her eyes alone made him feel like bug pinned to a corkboard.

As he broke away from the shadows of the buildings, he made his way out to what was previously the industrial district. And, eventually, came to the only open source of running water in the city. And though many called it a river, in his mind it was only a current of polluted slag that dumped off into some far off hole down the winding hills to nowhere. The water was filthy and gray, but nowhere close to sewage. It was all the rain water that brushed off the soot and dust from the city streets, and the bodies that lay in them. Nothing more than the city's tears, collecting needlessly in an endless show of remorse for something that would never change.

He looked across the barbwire fence he walked next to, surprised at the height of the water line. The river was contained in a deep cement causeway, and you could usually see the bottom of the cement-lined canal, there was so little water in it. Only a dull trickle ran down the center on most days, but with the recent rains the small vein had swollen to almost dangerous volume, the once crawling water now running almost to overflow. The top banks of the levee were scarcely enough to contain the thrashing water, some particularly sharp waves rolling in white foam over the top edge and onto the street.

He walked along the ravine, mindful of his step. He didn't want to go tumbling in anytime soon. Heaven knew he would probably never come out if he did. His eyes were locked the traffic on the other side of the river, darting along as it always had. The headlights of the cars flashed like lightening through the half-dark of the hazy day, and just as quickly disappeared into the smog that hung particularly low over that part of town. He hadn't ventured out to the outskirts in a long time, and he was surprised by the lack of memories he had. He knew the streets once, as well as any other young urchin. But as he'd grown up, the outskirts had become a far off world. A light gray area in a world of black smoke.

When he heard a fell yelling in the street, he couldn't help but to turn and look.

He squinted his eyes to the haze, trying to see what was going on beyond his line of sight. He heard the keen of squealing tires, and the raucous yell of someone in pursuit. Gunshots echoed sharply across the water, and faint silhouettes began to surge forward through the undulating fog. He stepped closer to the chain link fence that lined the river, looking over it with interest in an attempt to really see what was going on. A small wave brushed against his shoes, but he ignored it.

As the figures drew nearer, he could only barely discern a man's running figure through the haze. That was the first figure to appear, and at full sprint from what he could see. From what appeared to be the headlights of a vehicle pursuing him he could also discern a vehicle following close behind. But when a particularly familiar sounding _ratta-tat-tat_ sounded in his ears, he realized that the man being pursued was the same man that he himself had been seeking.

Running at full sprint, shooting over his shoulder like a bad ass cowboy from the Westerns, was Haine. There was no mistaking the flash of red eyes and the spiked white hair, and Badou could have yelled with glee had it not been obvious that his partner was in peril. Badou's head whipped around, looking to find an overpass that he could cross over in order to help his partner. He knew that the bridges existed; they were the only way to connect the sides of the river.

The nearest one he could spot in his panic was over two hundred yards away, but he started the mad dash towards it anyway. He shouted out his partner's name, trying to get his voice to carry over the roar of the river. But over the noise of the water, the squeal of the car's tires, and the thunder of gunfire, it appeared no such message got through. Haine continued on his mad dash, jumping and ducking out of the way of the car with only hairs to spare between him and the bottom of the wheels.

In vain Badou continued to yell, waving his arms as he ran. If he could even get Haine's attention for one minute, the world would be right again. The sick angle of Suma's universe would be righted, and he could return to the self he had unknowingly lost. But his partner remained oblivious, much to his dismay, and when his unsteady feet slid into a particularly deep puddle of water and a curl of river water knocked him astray, he went tumbling to the ground.

After he had pried his face from the wet pavement, his eyes immediately returned to his partner. Who, apparently, had given up on trying to return fire on the enemy and had opted to solely focus on running away. Badou couldn't help but find this odd, considering what a powerhouse the albino was with a gun, and how little at all other than Kiri's breasts could scare him.

It was the same strange behavior that he had exhibited several nights ago: sheer undefined terror, beyond the point of having a hope to fight for.

Displayed as if for his pure viewing pleasure, Badou watched the car as it pursued Haine. It was a strange, bulky black hunk of metal, and he watched as it swerved around, intending almost to run the albino off the sidewalk he was already on and into the river. He watched Haine's head turn just a second too late, and the albino jumped up onto the top of the fence to get himself out of the way. His heavy boots planted, and his shoulders halfway leaned into another jump, Haine seemed ready to dash out of the way in the nick of time. But the car's path remained true, and the sheer jolt from the monstrous vehicle ramming into the fence sent the albino tumbling off and into the torrent of water.

Badou sat frozen, watching as his partner splashed down into the dark water. He rose shakily, running down the fence in what he could only assume to be a blind attempt at saving Haine from the water. His eyes were glued to the bank as one of Haine's pale hands reached up to what little of the cement retaining wall was left untouched by the torrent.

The bare hand, devoid of rings or watch, clung to the slick surface, dragging up his snowy head above the water for a sparing moment. Badou could see the strain in the grip Haine had, and watched as the albino's shoulders shook as he coughed up the water out of his lungs. His black jacket clung to him like dead weight, and hung low around his shoulders. So low that Badou could see a glint of metal on the back of Haine's neck. He froze in his stride for a moment, realizing what this meant.

Haine's bandages had either come loose, or he had taken them off. In either case, it was never a good sign. Especially because, by standard, without those bandages, Haine was far more dangerous. The exposure drove him to be irritable, and quick to the trigger. With a bite to his own lip, Badou realized that if he'd been there for Haine like he normally was, the albino probably would not have been in his current situation.

Or at least he wouldn't have been in it alone.

Still flooded with relief, he all but leapt onto the overpass, still watching like a rabid spectator. But the men in the vehicle were not finished, and one stood on the bank behind where Haine had managed to wash up. A lone shot to the albino's hand had his precarious grip lost, and he disappeared once more beneath the water before Badou even had the chance to reach him. Badou only caught a fleeting glimpse of his partner's expression, and it made his charcoal heart clench so hard he could swear he'd had a heart attack. He spared a glance back at the shooter, and nearly died where he stood.

There, peeking out from the brim of a dark fedora, were Suma's electric blue eyes. She stood, her aim still maintained as she all but glared at the place where the albino had disappeared. Her upper lip was curled, and as Badou glanced down at her hand, he realized just where Haine's bandages had gone to. She had them, clenched in her long fingers like they were hers to begin with. The mere thought made his stomach twist, and he looked about desperately for someplace to hide.

Disregarding the rest of the vagabond pursuers in an attempt to hide himself, Badou ran to the other side of the overpass, his mind racing. He looked at the river almost desperately, begging under his breath for his partner to reappear. He scoured along the fence, looking downstream for any sign of white bobbing up above the gray. He needed the asshole, as much as he hated to admit, and watching him fall beneath the water had made him realize that. He needed the albino to tether him to reality, even if that meant insulting him or punching him when he said something lude. Even if it meant suffering through hellish gunfights, even if it meant dealing with the most frightening glares in existence, it was worth not having to suffer through the feeling of nothing being _real_.

They were partners, god damn it, and he was going to look out for Haine even if it _killed_ him in the end.

He stumbled along the fence for some time, still in shock and his mind clouded with fear. His hands shook as he walked along the chain link fence, rain suddenly pouring down in torrents. The low hung sky had finally broken loose, and Badou was tempted to swear at whatever deity that had chosen to curse his life. The more water poured out of the sky, the less chance Haine had of getting out of the water alive, and every crevice in his mind knew that.

But what he didn't know, or, rather, what he didn't _notice,_ was that he spent the next nine hours scouring the river for his partner. He walked aimlessly, eyes glued to the water as he paced the same three mile stretch of cement a numberless amount of times. His mind was numb, and thus couldn't comprehend the repetitive nature of his actions. In fact, he couldn't comprehend much at all. He felt like a child who'd gotten lost in a large crowd. And, after having caught a glimpse of a parent, was left entirely alone.

And, as a child would in such a situation, Badou found himself on the verge of inexplicable tears.

It was when the tears actually began to fall that he realized what he'd been doing. He realized that the sky had darkened, that he'd been lost in his thoughts and memories for more time than he could account for. Than he _wanted_ to account for. But in comparison to the time he'd been wasting over the past several days, earning money that had no meaning or purpose, it was a small shortcoming.

When his cognizance returned to him, he felt terribly exposed. As if he'd been stripped naked and thrown onto the street. He pulled his jacket closer around him, the feeling stifling his reasoning. For all the time he'd spent in vain, he felt terribly ashamed of it. As if he'd missed out on some great commitment he'd made, and let loose a fury that was beyond him.

It was then that he realized he'd completely supplanted Suma and her business, and felt true fear for the implications of what he had done. He'd never been on the bad side of a jezebel such as her before, and he feared what her less than favorable business was capable of. If it could kill a man, cause international strife, and destroy as well as he thought it could, then surely he would be suffering the hammer stroke sooner than he would have liked to.

When he broke away from the river, he felt like her very teeth were biting at his heels, even though the car had driven off long ago. He'd been going along with her plans like any good, money-mongering sheep, without the slightest clue that she was probably out to slaughter him. He could feel it now, and could see his own foolishness in blindly trusting her. Anyone in this damned city that offered you good pay for little at all wasn't worth trusting as far as they could throw, but he'd been so blinded by his own fog of misery that he'd failed to see it.

And now he'd lost the one thing he couldn't afford to, and he wasn't sure if he was ever going to get it back. He'd been missing the subtle hints all along. How Suma had slowly been accumulating items that didn't belong to her. The rings, the watch. It was all obvious to him now that he'd actually see his partner. Now that he'd been returned to some manner or form of reality, the clarity was shaking.

As he ran through the streets, trying to navigate his way back to the clean halls of somewhere safe, he wondered how the situation would have been different had he been able to get to Haine in time. How he would have draped himself over the fence and grabbed the albino by his skinny wrist and hauled him up to safety. How they would have turned and restarted the gunfight, Haine grousing at him for being late as usual. They would have played around for a while, the shriek of bullets whizzing past their ears but background music. The enemy would be shot down, and the adrenaline would wear off.

And there they would have sat, side by side on the street corner in the pouring rain. Haine spitting bullets out of his lungs and Badou rubbing whatever body part he'd injured, they would be totally ignorant to the carnage they'd caused, happy and sated by a job well done. And then they would stand, hobbling off to _Buon Viaggio_ for a plate of spaghetti and a cup of hot coffee. Haine would bitch the entire way, knowing him, but Badou would have happily put up with that than the cold emptiness of the air breezing past him as he ran.

Badou squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth as he came back to himself yet again. As pleasant as the daydream sounded, it was not his current situation. Haine wasn't saved, his pride hadn't been restored. And though he didn't doubt the albino's capability to survive, he did doubt the likelihood that he'd be able to find him anytime soon. He was a hard man to track down normally, but with the luck he'd been having lately the endeavor was almost entirely lost.

And if he were to face Suma tomorrow for the mistakes he'd made, for the crimes he'd watched her commit, he wanted some manner of back up that could prevent him from dying on the spot. And though very little at all could contend with Haine's temper, he also knew that little at all could contend with Suma at all. It seemed that no matter what, the last laugh would always be hers.

When finally he came to a monument that he heralded as being familiar, he all but leapt up the stairs leading to the massive front doors of the church. He threw them open raucously, wanting to yell out and make his presence known. But his throat was tight, and no sound came forth. And even as he ventured in, the old doors swinging on their warped hinges behind him to close, he realized that there was a foreign coldness in the church.

No one was there, save for the ghosts in the belfry. Too tired to care and too tired to fight, he slouched forward onto one of the pews. He was soaked to the bone, and shaking like a bucket of bones in an agitator.

And that night, Badou did something he'd never before done in his life.

He prayed.

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-Despicably short, I know. But I have two more chapters of this to write in the next week, and I really didn't have anything more to put in this one other than vapid exposition. So, I chose to shorten it a little bit and keep my little bit of remaining sanity for the next chapter. Also not that the "extra scene" in the last chapter will be posted separately, but probably much later. I've never written lemon before, and I want to take my time with doing it poetically. It will come, however, and I will be sure to notify all of you when it does. In the mean time, peace, and I'll hear from you all later this week!


	6. The Climax and Annihilation of the World

-I have… less than five days to finish this fic. I'm not sure if I'm going to make it or not, considering I have a lot to do in the next few days, moving in and all that. But I'll do my best. This chapter really isn't going to be that long, sorry to disappoint you guys. But this chapter really wasn't meant to be that long, considering what happens in it. Don't know what I mean? Well, you're about to find out. Scroll down, and you'll see why I didn't want this to be very long.

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Climax and Annihilation of the World

His face was plastered against a pew when he got up the next morning. His cheek was pressed against the wood, and as he groggily rubbed at it he felt the carving's imprint on his cheek. He shook his head, finding his hair dry after a night in the open air of the church, and a thick wool blanket on his shoulders. When he realized its presence he was startled, knowing that it had not been there when he'd fallen asleep…

Praying, for what felt like hours on end. He kneaded his forehead against the wood once more, biting at his lip as the lump in his throat returned. He'd ended up weeping himself to sleep, during the waxing hours of the morning. He had been begging in desperation to whatever god existed, totally beyond himself with fear and doubt. But even with morning's light, none of that fear or doubt had gone away.

Taking a deep, shaking breath, he nearly jumped out of his skin when a soft hand settled on his shoulder. His head whipped up, and with panic in his eye he turned to see who was touching him. And, much against his thought that it was probably Nill, it turned out to be none other than the priest himself. The black glasses that hid his eyes gleamed in the half-darkness, but there seemed to lack the typical humor they bore. If anything they seemed sad, distressed perhaps to see him in such a light.

"Badou," the older man said, retracting his hand. His voice as almost pensive, nervous perhaps. Badou couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he knew that in spite of all of their previous differences, that in that moment they shared something. It ran deeper than words could define, or perhaps only the words he knew couldn't define it. Perhaps when the world had been made of poetry and not smog there had existed words to describe that connection, but they had died out with the hope that had forsaken the people of the earth.

And now, much against his typical views, he was one of those meaningless, hopeless souls. But the blame lie not in the lone disappearance of one person, but from the lack of their influence. He had been so blind to how unbelievably close the two of them had become, without even realizing it. He had told Naoto once, very defensively, that he and Haine were _not_ like that. And even though he realized he was right, he also realized that what they shared was on that same track, only on a far deeper meter than he'd cared to even look at before.

And now that it was on the verge of being gone forever, he realized just how much he valued it. And from the look on the priest's face, what little of it he could see, he understood exactly what was running through his head. And though Badou doubted that the man, though wily, knew all the details of what was going on, he didn't doubt the man's capability to fathom the kind of pain that would inspire such an emotional outburst.

"I think you should go and find him." He blinked, not having realized just how far his thoughts had strayed. The poor man had probably been left in several awkward minutes of silence, but Badou couldn't bring himself to care. He had purposefully been avoiding thinking about this for the entire week, and now he was tired of running. He _needed_ to think this through, and gather his thoughts. But in spite of his best efforts, he found he couldn't do so until he was absolutely positive as to what exactly had become of his partner. Thus, he agreed with the statement, even as much as he was afraid to.

He didn't want to think about having to stumble across Suma along the way. And with an inundating chill down his scrawny back, he realized that he'd blown her off entirely the previous day. And even with the knowledge of what he had been doing, he couldn't bring himself to just brush the instance off his shoulder. If he wanted to cover his absence today, then he would have to at least speak to her. That thought in and of itself nearly made him sick to himself, and apparently his expression became so intense that the priest was so moved by it that he crouched down next to him, asking if he was alright.

The answer, plain and simple, was that he was not. Nor would he be until this entire _thing_ had washed under the bridge he was standing on. But at that point it seemed to be more a black wave, ready to wash him away into a world of nightmares and hellish realities.

"No," he answered out through clenched teeth, and the priest seemed startled. "I'm not okay." He looked back up at the man, knowing that tears were probably brimming at the edges of his eye. He couldn't see their haze, but knew the glassy feeling that came over his eyes. "I have to go face hell to find him." Apparently the older man took it as some manner of metaphor, because he seemed to almost smile at him. "But I'd face the devil herself if it meant knowing that he was okay."

The smile disappeared when the priest realized that he was as serious as he had ever been in his life. Even when his older brother had died, he'd tried to look at the situation with some grain of humor. Now, he didn't think he could find something humorous or praise-worthy even if God himself pointed it out to him.

Standing up and wiping a sleeve across his face in an attempt to redeem what little manliness he feigned to have left, he turned his back to the older man. He could tell that the man wanted to say more, but he knew that at that point both of them couldn't have found the words if they wanted to. The priest wanted Badou to find Haine so that Nill would be happy, and so that she wouldn't be worried or hurt.

Badou wanted to find him because he _was_ hurting, and knew that whatever pain Haine had suffered through was somehow of his own fault.

He walked out of the church without another word, in spite of the ominous feeling that he would never be going back. And whether that feeling meant that he would never be going back again, or would never be coming back the same, he wasn't able to tell. And, quite frankly, he didn't want to know. Trying to predict what fate would hand you was like trying to predict which way the wind would blow. Even though chances would lean in a certain favor, there was no sure fire way to tell until it had already occurred.

He didn't bother to toss up his hood as he walked out into what was probably the worst rain he'd seen in decades. And though he hadn't been on the earth more than two decades, he knew that this city had never seen rain so drowning. It had seen heavy rain, yes, but it had never seen the blinding droplets that were so large that when they collided with the street they hit so hard their splashes reached feet into the air. Within minutes he was altogether soaked, but walked unnoticing as he made his way towards a phone booth.

He had crushed Suma's business card in his hand on the long walk there, and couldn't bring himself to open it again. So he dialed the number from memory, hoping that he had gotten it wrong and that he could give himself some excuse to run away. The card must have gotten wet, and probably wouldn't be legible, he couldn't remember the number, _anything_. But when her oily voiced answered on the other end of the line, he knew that there was no getting out of it.

Especially when he realized that she sounded almost _gleeful_ that he had called.

"_I'm so glad to hear from you, Badou!_" she said, an unnatural ring to her voice that he'd never heard before. It sounded to him like she was a cat who had just dropped a dead mouse at the feet of its master, oh so pleased with itself without caring what the person on the receiving end felt like. "_When I didn't hear from you yesterday, I was concerned. But I managed to get yesterday's job done well enough myself without you. It's a pity though, I'm sure you would have done an equally good job._"

He swallowed hard, shaking in his shoes. She had done the job herself? That pretty much meant that, had he called her yesterday morning like he was supposed to have, that he probably would have been the one shooting down Haine, not her.

He leaned his forehead against the cold glass of the booth, trying to keep his voice straight when he finally found the will to talk. "Sorry about that," he ground out at as much of a normal pace as he could manage. "I… lost track of time yesterday. I got caught up in something and… didn't quite realize what I was doing until the sun had gone down."

Her tinkling laugh dashed across the line. "_Oh don't worry, Badou. I understand. I have a job for you today that will more than make up for yesterday, I promise. In fact, since you've called at such a convenient time, why don't you just meet me on site so we can get this done and over with?_"

He didn't like the sound of what she was saying, and at probably twelve different intervals in the entire speech tried to muster up the courage to speak out, telling her that he wanted out. But every time the words turned to sand in his mouth, and he was struck silent and useless as he always had been.

Having taken his choked silence for consent, she prattled off the address of where she wanted him to meet her. She didn't talk much more at him, which was a blessing considering he'd all but lost all the blood in his body as it swiftly sank to his feet. He probably couldn't have moved his lips had he a pump in his heart moving his blood for him. She must have sensed his reaction, because her "goodbye" was far too much of a pleasant one.

The address she had given him was an all too familiar one, and he was choking on his own heart at the thought of her even _being _there.

Because the address she had given had been _Haine's_ address.

The time it took him to get from the abandoned phone booth to Haine's apartment would probably have been a world record had there been a soul around to record it. But with the way the world had been reduced to a blur of variant grays before his eyes as he'd made the maddest rush of his life to Haine's apartment, he wasn't even sure that another soul even existed in the world. For all he knew he was the only one left alive on the streets, left to fend for himself against the demons of the underworld.

He thundered into the familiar apartment complex, the blurry grays swinging into sharp blacks and whites as he bounded up the staircase. He could have taken the elevator, but in his haste he knew that the stairs would deliver him faster to Haine's secluded corner. And, if anything, he wanted to see if he could beat Suma there to try and save whatever was left of his partner before she and her ill intentions arrived.

But as he skidded to a stop in front of his door, once again knocked oh-so-slightly ajar, he knew that he'd made no such deadline. Once again, he'd been caught with both hands dyed red with blood.

Too little, too late.

He looked with panic at the bright red bloodstains smeared across the door, an obvious struggle having ensued, and possibly ended at that threshold. He pushed the door open with the tips of his fingers, not at all wanting to touch the still wet evidence of a fight he had been absent for. He felt the crushing silence press in around him as he walked through the small causeway, the checkered tiles also smeared with the red substance.

He closed his eye, looking away and down the hall as he caught sight of the last person he wanted to see in such a circumstance.

There, standing in Haine's living room like she owned the place, was Suma. One of her hands was perched on her hip, which was adorned with an all too familiar belt. Her other hand was tucked against the back of her other leg, hiding it from view. All thoughts towards style and fashion seemed to have left her, as she was dressed in a simple black jacket and black pants. On which, in spite of their color, he could see blood stains.

A wicked smile was carved across her usually fair face, and he felt his blood rush to his feet again. If ever there was a combination of glee, fury, and malevolence, it surely rested in her eyes then. She seemed haughty, with her chin tilted into the air and her bright blue eyes glaring down at him with a wide-open madness. He'd seen a look similar to that, when Haine lost all semblance of himself and became one with the dog that lived within his spine.

The semblance was almost striking, and had he not been so terrified for his life and the life of his partner he would have sworn that somehow they might have been related.

Perhaps she was a new lab rat, sent out to destroy the old. But, dispelling such thoughts from his head, he whispered out in a dry, husky, altogether defeated voice, "Where's Haine?"

Her bellowing laughter knocked the wind right out of his lungs, and he felt the cruel wetness of tears begin to trail down his cheek. He wasn't sobbing, wasn't weeping like some emotional mother who had lost her child. He was weeping because he had been so shell shocked by everything that had transpired that he couldn't help but do anything else. He didn't know how to at that point, and doubted that even if he did it would do him any good at all.

The black wave had finally reached his unsteady place, and was thrashing him around like a rag doll. And it didn't matter if he was God, a saint, or a sinner, at that point, because there was no way that he could have undone any of the actions he had taken in the past few days that had caused the entire thing. There was no way he could repent for what he had done to his partner.

For what he had unwittingly done to himself.

"What did you do to him?" he bellowed out at her, choking on his own words as they were halfway out of his mouth. He laughter grew louder, and her wicket grin grew as it tore across her once fair features. Now she just looked like some demon, straight from hell as the shadows closed in around them. Her teeth, sharp and glistening, were bared at him in a rabid wolf's smile.

"_I've done nothing to him._" She showed her other hand to him then, drawing it out from behind her leg with purposeful slowness. Her arm was speckled with blood, the thick red substance clinging to her alabaster skin like a poison. And there, clasped in her red hand, was a twisted, but somehow familiar looking piece of metal.

With a start, he rushed to step around her, stopping in his tracks the second he spotted the pool of blood lying just beyond the back of the couch. He fell to his knee, his gut wrenching as he caught sign of Haine's alabaster head, lying face down on the floor, the back of his neck nothing but a mash of twisted and missing flesh and blood.

There was no movement from him, and Badou reached to cover his mouth as the urge to be sick rushed up and down his body like shockwaves. His face contorted, and he closed his eye in a vain attempt to block out the horrid image. But no matter how hard he squeezed his eyes shut, no matter how much he tried to think of other things, the image was burned forever into his mind. It would be like a cataract; forever shortening his sight. Tears fell in a torrent down his flaccid cheeks, and he fell to his other knee, all but burying his face against the blood splattered floor.

The black and white tile floor of Haine's apartment spun beneath his tears as he sobbed against them. Eye open, his body was wracked with tremors as he clenched a hand against his heart. Had he the ability to tear it out, he gladly would have. The pain was unlike any he had ever felt, and Suma's horrid cackling laughter drug across his spine like a knife against his skin.

How could it have come to this? That question ran through his mind thousands of times, over and over as he sat there trying to wash the image away. But only one answer came to him, and even though he wanted to be able to fight hard enough to deny it, he knew that he could not.

It had come to this because he had been too ignorant to care.

Too ignorant to care about his partner. Too ignorant to care about the needs of others. Too ignorant to realize what _death_ really felt like. Too ignorant to want to deal with the pain or the suffering or the strife.

His ignorance had made the world turn backwards, and the only one he had to blame or punish was himself. Suma may have been evil, but never once did she not make it obviously clear what she was up to. But his calloused mind had prevented him from even _seeing_ the true repercussions of what she was doing. For years he'd settled with ignorance for the sake of keeping his own sanity, for fear of actually having to feel again.

Ever since his brother had died, he'd been wearing a skin of nihilism to keep himself protected from the feelings of actually being close to someone. But Haine, in some strange way, had changed that. He'd crawled under Badou's dusty skin and gotten to the warm blood that still pumped underneath. He teased life out of the chain smoker, teased personality out of all the dark places he had tried to keep hidden for so many years behind his addiction and his faults.

And in the same way Haine had also let Badou underneath his steely skin, offering companionship in his own unique, and subtle way. But now that he could see that, he knew just how important all of Haine's subtle allowances were. The albino had been risking everything he had fought to regain in making a team out of them. He had offered all that he had to Badou's disposal, and even though by normal standards it really wasn't much, to Haine it was the biggest show of trust in the world.

Without knowing it, Badou had been ignoring Haine's humanity in favor of griping about his lack thereof.

Grinding against every emotion thrumming through his body, Badou lifted his head. Looking up through foggy vision, he clenched his eyes shut again. But this time, he wasn't trying to push the image away. He wanted to remember it, wanted to make himself realize just what he had done to the only person that had shown enough trust to him to be considered worthy of remorse. He struggled up to his feet, still shaking like a baby on his way to his first steps.

He looked over at Suma, who was still grinning wickedly. This had been her plan all along. She had chosen a weak moment to prey on him, when he was too frustrated and wounded to care. When he'd been so livid in his blindness that he had accepted her spoon-fed poison without a second thought. And here it had gotten him, down a snake's hole with no way of crawling out.

"Give that to me," he ordered through his clenched teeth, his hands equally tight as they balled into fists. He doubted that he would have the strength to fight someone like her, but he'd often heard that when under intense emotional duress that people were capable of more than they expected.

And if he'd ever experienced intense emotional duress, it would have been now.

She chuckled at him then, reaching up with her then, miraculously clean hand to settle on her bosom. "_Why, Badou? Whatever do you mean? __**You**__ have it._"

A lone bony finger pointed at him, and his face paled.

_What?_

Looking down at his own hand, he saw that she was indeed correct, and that the metal collar, twisted and bloody, rested in his now ingloriously bloodied hand. He looked back up at her, feeling some sense of absolute _insanity_ wash over everything. The very fibers of the room seemed to spin out of control, twisting and curling into an unreachable array of worlds.

The only thing that remained for a moment was Suma, as she said with that wolfish grin,

"_You're the one who did it to him after all._"

The only thing he knew as the rest of the world tore out of recognizable shape was that he was screaming.

* * *

-Okay, so it's no longer vapid exposition, it's _emotional_ exposition. Hooray! Yes, I KNOW that this chapter was short. It was meant to be, really. If you've ever taken a film & TV class you'll know that the climax of a movie/story arc/plot lasts the least amount of time. Thus, this chapter is very short at only three thousand some odd words. But you should be thankful, because this means that the last chapter will be up by tomorrow! At least, I hope it will be. The short "cut" version will hopefully be posted tomorrow, and as I stated earlier the "uncut" bits will be added later. I know that these last three chapters have been horrendously rushed, and I apologize for their lack of continual quality. However, I do intend to take my time on the "uncut" bits, as I want to do them properly. So, do expect those sometime, but at what time I am not entirely sure of for the moment. In any case, enjoy the second to last chapter of Gilded Silver everybody! There probably won't be a sequel, because I take way too long to update, and I am quite happy with leaving it as it will end in the next chapter. If any of you want to continue it, you are welcome to, but this fic is DONE in my books. Now I'm going to go focus on Reign of Blue Fire, and try to get that done by next summer. Hooray! Again… See you all tomorrow!


	7. Waking Dreams

-PLEASE SEE THE BOTTOM AUTHOR'S NOTE FOR MORE INFO. This is NOT the extended chapter, it is how the last chapter was SUPPOSED to be! Again, more info on the bottom!

* * *

Waking Dreams

"Badou!"

He continued to scream, his voice cracking as his outcry dissolved into body-numbing sobs.

"Badou!"

He knew the voice echoing in his head, and he grasped his temples in an attempt to get it to stop. His face was wet with tears, and his lungs hurt from the onslaught of weeping he'd done. Why couldn't it all just go away?

"God damn it, Badou! Stop crying!"

A pair of firm, and very real hands grabbed his shoulders, shaking him in an all too familiar grip. Cold fingers knotted in his sleeves, and his eyes snapped open. The world seemed to have spun out of the black, as the shadow threads that teased the edge of his vision faded away.

And there, standing right in front of him and holding onto Badou's shoulders like he would fall apart if he let go, was Haine. His ruby eyes were open wider than usual, confusion and concern etched across his face as he looked down at the Cyclops. His face seemed paler than usual, his already stark features accentuated by deep shadows of tire that clung under his eyes.

"H… Haine," Badou stuttered out, feeling childish for hiccupping. But he was still on the verge of sobbing heavily, but this time out of sheer joy and relief that his partner was okay. There was no blood, no collar, no Suma. The world existed, and he could feel the vague notion that was reality close in around him like a comforting embrace. All of it seemed to have been washed away in the gray twilight of the room, he pale dinge on the walls. All that remained was Haine and himself, and the _world_.

"You're okay," he continued weakly, looking at the albino's face as it jumped to surprise. Was that such a strange thing to say considering that the back of his neck had been torn open? Was it such a strange thing to be relieved about after having seen the man almost drown? Watched him die? A notion that seemed impossible?

"Me?" Haine asked, removing his hands slowly as he straightened up. As the albino drew further away Badou realized that he was laying down, and that Haine had been bent over him. He felt the soft plush of a bed cushion beneath him, and pushed himself up slowly, eyes still locked on the albino. "Of course I'm fine. I'm not so sure about you, on the other hand."

Badou blinked in surprise. "Why?" he asked quickly, making to stand before Haine pushed him back down. He looked up at the albino indignantly he sat looking up at him. "I just saw you get killed, and you think I'm the one that's messed up?"

Haine's confusion seemed to grow, and his face grew grave. He sat down on the edge of Badou's bed, which he realized belatedly was a _hospital_ bed.

Why was he in the hospital?

"Badou, I didn't even hardly get hit. You were the one that took the tumble down the stairs, remember?" the albino said, slowing his words as if waiting for some light to go on. Badou's brows knotted together and a frown pressed on his lips. There was some connection he was missing but he just couldn't quite…

Stairs?

He looked over at his partner, his brows high and his eyes wide. He had fallen down the stairs. He remembered now; they had been on a job and he'd taken a tumble… but he'd just hurt his arm. Haine had had walked away looking like Swiss cheese, and they had thus parted ways. He remembered being sore the next day at _Buon Viaggio_…

"Haine," he asked suddenly, and he could tell that Haine knew something was wrong from the thin line of his lips, "what day is it, today?" He grasped at the albino's shoulders, and felt them tense beneath his fingers. "Please tell me."

"It's Saturday," Haine answered, and slowly Badou released his grip. "We had the job just earlier this afternoon, remember?"

He _did_ remember, and he looked away slowly as he tried to re-gather his thoughts. It didn't make any sense… that job, it had been almost a week ago… It _felt_ like it had been almost a week ago. He looked back to Haine, feeling some silent dread wash over him. "How long have I been out? Just for a few hours?"

Haine's snowy head nodded, his ruby eyes looking at Badou seriously. "Yeah. You hit your head pretty hard, and wouldn't get up. So I brought you here to make sure you…"

Badou didn't need him to finish his sentence.

He paused again, trying to put the pieces together. But now that they were all laid out, none of them fit together. "So, the poker game, TOSCA, the train, the river, none of it ever happened?" Haine tilted his head to one side, obviously not following Badou's references. Had he really not done any of those things? Had he really _not_ spent a week mulling around in a living hell?

Had all of it really been just a dream?

"I don't know what kinds of dreams you've been having over the past few hours, Badou, but I can assure you that you haven't done any of those things in your sleep," Haine said, making to stand again. Taking a second to read between the lines, Badou was surprised to realize that what Haine had just said meant that he hadn't left his partner's side in the hours he'd spent in the hospital. It was just another show of Haine's subtle form of caring.

Having to accept the idea of not having actually experienced anything he thought he had done over the past non-week was a hard pill to swallow, but Badou put it aside for a moment, grasping at Haine's wrist as he stood up slowly. He knew that standing up too fast was a bad idea, so he did it slowly to keep from making even more of a fool of himself. Haine glanced back at him, seemingly unnerved by Badou's serious expression.

"Haine," he said, his tone a strange juxtaposition between demanding and desperate, "please, let me look at your collar." He felt a tear prick at the corner of his eye. He felt Haine stiffen, and try to step away, but he moved his hand to grasp at the albino's upper arm, preventing him from moving away.

"Please!" His voice raised to a near-shout as his desperation grew. He needed this one shred of evidence to know that the world was real. To know that, unlike everything he may or may not have just experienced, that this wasn't a dream. That it wasn't just another nightmare. Haine looked at him as if he were a deer trapped in the headlights, or a wild dog pinned in a cage, and underneath all the cold metal that was Haine's own façade, he could see the conflict in the other man's eyes. He understood the hesitance, understood the consent, but knew that he would have to give Haine a reason if he really wanted him to sway to his side.

"I need to know that this is real," he added quietly, and he saw the conflict in the ruby eyes seem to die. The albino loosened, and seemed to cease in his struggle to get away. But he made no motion to remove the bandages clasped around his neck, and looked away almost resentfully. Badou could see that Haine's hands were clenched into fists, and that the albino, in spite of his consent, still wasn't comfortable with the decision.

Badou couldn't blame him, and so reached up to pry away the first layer gingerly. He stepped halfway around the albino, facing the back of his neck as he folded down the other's high coat collar. Once the first layer was loosened the rest of the loops followed, pooling around Haine's shoulders as they slunk down to reveal just what Badou was looking for.

He'd never really taken the time to get a good look at Haine's collar before. Nor had he ever really gotten the chance to, considering the albino only showed it rarely, considering he wasn't exactly proud of the attribute. It was a stiffly cut piece of metal, with sharply hewn shape, scratched and scored over years of abuse. But there seemed to be a kind of symmetry to it, how the scars in the metal followed down onto Haine's skin. And Badou realized with a start that those were the only scars that Haine actually seemed to have.

Without thinking of what he was actually doing, Badou stepped behind the gunner and wrapped his arms around Haine's stomach, now fully behind the man as he buried his nose against the metal plate. He heard Haine growl low in warning, asking in a none too pleased voice just what the hell the other gunner thought he was doing.

The wholly honest answer was that Badou had no idea, but that somehow, with Haine so close, the fear seemed to go away. The uncertainty of admitting that he himself was still human was made less shocking by the fact that Haine, who was equally human in different ways, was so close. He closed his eyes, planting a ginger kiss on the other man's most sensitive area, sufficiently silencing him for the moment. He held the albino like that for a minute, and let the silence settle around them.

"I would go through hell for you, you know that right?" he whispered, his lips still brushing against the collar studded into Haine's neck. He watched the muscles in the man's neck move as he snorted petulantly, and how the goose bumps on Haine's neck made the white bristly hair at the base of his neck stand up.

"We live in hell, genius," the experiment griped, and Badou buried his face in the crook of Haine's neck. His arms tightened around the other man's torso, and he clenched his eyes shut. The bloody vision flashed before his eyes, and he felt his hands shake as he grasped at the other man's sides.

"No." He felt Haine still at the word. "This isn't hell."

The silence settled around them again, and Badou could sense that Haine was getting antsy when the other made no apparent intention clear that he was going to move. Badou didn't want to really, and so he didn't, totally satisfied with making sure that reality was actually at hand.

After a long time, Haine spoke again. When he did it was quietly; so quietly that Badou barely heard him. But because of their close proximity, he was just barely able to catch the ghosting words as they passed the other man's pale lips.

"I'd go through hell for you too, you lazy son of a bitch."

Badou smiled, satisfied with the reaction. He could hear the grudging tone in Haine's voice, but also caught the undertone that their statements shared: honesty. And even though Haine had never been one to really lie through his teeth, he had never been one to be overtly honest with everyone he passed by on the street. So, in Badou's meager books, it was a victory, and so he released his partner from his grasp.

Almost as predictably, Haine turned around to face him, his ruby eyes frustrated and questioning. But he could see that Haine was keeping all of his thoughts to himself, for now, and Badou could only guess that it was because the man was dog tired. If he remembered correctly, but in spite of the time that he had fathomed to pass, none truly had, Haine had been complaining before the job about how little sleep he'd gotten over the past week. And, thus, was more than overdue for a good night's sleep. Thus, he was too tired to fight, and too tired to ask questions.

Of which, for now, Badou was thankful. Because in all honesty he himself probably couldn't have answered all of Haine's questions, and he wanted… perhaps _needed_ the time to himself to figure them out. Then he would share his musings with Haine, when he'd finally made all the puzzle pieces fit back into a picture again.

"Can I stay at your place tonight, Haine?" he asked, not wanting the questions flooding his head to be answered strictly within the confines of a dingy gray hospital room. And even though the horrid memories he still harbored about Haine's apartment, he knew that he would have to face his demons. And, with Haine alongside him, perhaps replace those horrid premonitions with new, far better memories.

The albino shrugged, readjusting his bandages as he seemed to gather himself. He walked towards the door, grabbing his heavy studded belt, which sat on a chair across the room, and slinging it up over his shoulder. The chain fell down his back, still connected to the guns in the holster. "Fine." He cast a withering glance at the red head. "But we'll have to take the trains back. We're still all the way across town."

Badou nearly cringed at the thought of going on another train, but decided that with Haine was better than without by so many miles that the comparison was barely valid. He nodded, realizing that throughout the entire endeavor he had been missing his eye patch. He was still wearing his everyday clothing, which wasn't a surprise considering he'd just bumped his head. The doctors must not have deemed him important enough to really hospitalize, otherwise he probably would have been far deeper into the hospital.

Retrieving it from the bedside and slinging it across his face, the blinked. It felt… strange, having it on. He could see Haine's vaguely raised eyebrow out of the corner of his eye, and returned the glance. Maybe _that _ was why Haine had actually given in; he'd gotten to see Badou's scar. Thus, the least he could do was return the favor. The logic may not have been perfect, but it was enough for the smoker as he dug around his pockets for a pack. When he found one, he smiled to himself, tossing it happily in his hand and making to join the albino at the door.

"Let's go home."

* * *

By the time they arrived at the nearest train station it was already very late into the evening. The small hours of the night were drawing near to being early morning, and the few trains that ran at that late a time were very far apart indeed. But once they had boarded and were on their way to the other end of the city, Badou finally began to feel real again. People responded to _their_ presence. He noted how many strange looks Haine got, even at that time of night. He noticed how some people, at the sight of them, seemed to disappear into the woodwork with unhappy faces. He had his reputation back. _They _had their reputation back, and it was a glorious feeling.

Feasible reactions were taking place right before his eyes, proving over and over to his newly acute mind that this was _real_. Haine was real. He was real. The world was real. Things made sense here. And he found himself smiling more than once offhandedly at no thought in particular other than how nice it was to feel the pavement under his feet, solid and cold.

When they boarded, the train's dim lights were barely enough to see across the passenger cab. So, he and Haine chose to sit side by side in favor of risking unfavorable company so late in the evening. And because Badou at that point was still too paranoid to opt for any other choice. They slouched against their seats, Haine's head almost instantly bowing in sleep as he trundled off to what would hopefully be a far less traumatic dream than the one Badou had experienced. But it was still a half-sleep, Badou noted, knowing that if the albino's fingers were twitching like they did every once in a while, that he wasn't actually asleep. He was just resting his eyes and letting his muscles relax. He'd fall dead asleep as soon as he was back in his own door, and knew he wouldn't have to whip out his weapons on a second's notice.

Whilst Badou on the other hand could still scarcely believe that _none_ of the dream had been real. It seemed so strange, to go through a dream that made so much realistic sense, and yet none at all to in the end have not a grain of it be truth. It had been so real, but so fake at the same time. He shook his head, letting a sigh out through his nose as he glanced over at Haine, whose arms were crossed over his chest, even as his nose sagged against his collarbones, and his glove clad-fingers twitched against his arms.

Glancing around the hazy train car, Badou tried to avert his attention elsewhere. At the rate he was spiraling, by the end of the night his statement to Naoto would be proven wrong.

Because, hell, if Haine kept looking so damnably… himself, Badou may just have to do something about it. He wanted some way to show Haine that he would never betray the trust that the albino invested. That he would never ignore him for favor of… something else.

He wanted a way to seal the deal, and knew that somewhere deep down, Haine did too.

But when his gaze settled on a vague figure halfway down the train car, he paused in his thoughts.

What had first caught his notice was the person's legs. They were long and lean, and stretched halfway out into the isle as they rested interlocked at the ankles. A lady's stance, he assumed, considering the rest of the vague curvature of the person's body. He squinted, trying to get a good look at their face before he stopped, nearly shedding his skin when he realized there were a pair of eyes looking back at him.

_Electric blue eyes_ to be exact.

Suma's cold eyes stared back at him from across the train car, and he instinctively backed towards Haine with a sharp gasp rasping down his dry throat. His heart thundered up his throat, and he could feel the blood draining from his face as his ashen lips fell open. Her face was pressed into a smug grin as she leered at him from across the train, apparently more than pleased by his reaction.

But she'd just been a dream… hadn't she? She had just been part of the nightmare that his mind had fabricated from the damage done by a minor concussion, wasn't she? Everything she had done had been a fantasy, hadn't it?

The chaos seemed suddenly very much real in the world as it flashed by beyond the walls of the train.

In a slow motion she raised one of her pale hands, curling half of her fingers to her palm, and pointing the other two out to form a makeshift gun. She leveled her mock barrel towards him, cocking her thumb back like it was a trigger. But he realized after a moment that she wasn't aiming for him, rather, right beyond him.

Right where Haine sat dozing next to him, and the one eyed gunner looked at him, panicked.

His eyes whipped back to her, and she winked mockingly at him as the pulled her mock trigger, her arm cocking back as if in recoil. She smiled coyly at him, kissing her hand and blowing it to him as he sat dumbstruck. For a moment he just stood staring, unable to believe what he was seeing. But after a moment, she spoke. Her tone was low, and had he not watched her lips he would have missed what she said entirely.

"_**Next time, it's for real.**_"

A bright flash of light burst through the windows, and Badou blinked in surprise. But the moment he opened his eyes again, she was gone. Her seat was empty, save for the bright light bathing it from the lights in the station. He sat staring for a moment, before he felt Haine stir beside him. He glanced over at the albino as the ruby eyes opened groggily.

"I guess we're at our station," Badou said quickly, hauling Haine up by his wrist and all but lugging him out of the train station like he was dead weight. Haine took back his wrist after a while, but only after Badou deemed it safe for him to let go. Haine didn't fail to notice the difference in his partner's disposition, but he must have decided that something that had his partner so obviously worried was worthy of his attention, because he asked about it perfectly seriously after he'd woken up enough to do so.

Badou paused on his mission to make sure that both of them made it to Haine's house in one piece, looking back at his partner with all the seriousness that they knew when and when not to share.

"I can't tell you everything right now," he answered slowly, feeling Haine's discontent with the answer, but appreciating the patient silence anyway. "But you have to promise me one thing." Again, the albino waited.

"Whether it's you in my sight or me in your sight, I don't ever want us to be out of each other's reach," he elaborated, and he watched Haine's pale brows kick up. "I know it sounds stupid, but… you just can't imagine the things I've seen, Haine." His voice stiffened, and he felt like, for the millionth time that day, that tears were right around the corner. "You really can't."

Haine stepped forward then, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket as he seemed to mull over what Badou had said. His confusion seemed to have died away, instead replaced by something Badou wasn't familiar enough with to read properly. But when the albino looked up, and their eyes met, he knew that Haine had been listening, and that, even for his lack of detail, he comprehended much of what was going on only from the intuitive instincts that followed him around like a shadow.

"Then why won't you start telling me, idiot," he said dully, still obviously tired but not tired enough to leave the acumen out of his voice. "That way maybe you can finally start making sense by morning."

Badou smiled, nodding and letting out a long breath. Well, at least he had somewhere to start. But, casting one last glance over his shoulder and behind the both of them as they made their way into Haine's apartment building, he realized that even if he did have a place to start, he also had a place to end. In spite of how much he hated to think about that end.

But he thought then that perhaps the end he had seen would be different, somehow. Now that he had seen it and could with cognizant effort work towards a happier ending, perhaps the vision would change.

And, perhaps after everything, he would be the one holding all the cards. He would be the one with the gun in his hand. He would be the informant. He would be the shooter. He would be the schemer.

Following Haine into the quiet silence of his apartment building, rain just beginning to drizzle out from the black sky as they made their way inside, he couldn't help but wonder what exactly he was supposed to tell the albino without sounding delusional. He knew that he sounded pretty delusional to the albino most of the time anyway, but this was even beyond him a little bit. But as he followed after the albino's heels back to the secluded corner of his apartment complex, he realized that it really didn't matter all too much. What he said really didn't have much consequence; it was what he meant in the end that mattered.

So as Haine shouldered open his heavy door and ushered them both in, Badou turned to begin speaking. But as he watched the albino instinctively close and lock the door behind him, he lost his words again. Had it been anyone else, locking the two of them within the apartment could have been viewed rather questioningly. But Badou knew that it was just Haine being Haine, and that he was such a lazy ass when in his own house that he didn't want to deal with people barging in. That was it. No ulterior motives, no risqué implications, just a lazy guy wanting to be lazy while in his own house.

Thus, when Badou started to chuckle to himself at the thought, he earned a rather unsavory glance from his partner. His chuckles turned into a gentle smile, though the unsavory glance did not waver. If anything, Haine was a mix between confused, and a shade of thinly veiled frustration.

"What's with you lately?" he grumbled under his breath, shouldering past the gunner as he made for his small living room. Before the Cyclops could call it, Haine flopped unceremoniously onto his couch, covering his eyes with the crook of his arm. "You're even more of a nonsensical spazz than usual."

Badou merely shook his head, following after the albino and sitting down on the checkered floor. He looked around, the stark black and white pattern empty of the blood he had seen it stained with what felt not to be just hours ago. He closed his eyes, feeling his lips quiver and his stomach coil at the thought. He leaned against the front of Haine's couch, resting his head on the cushion by the albino's hip. His eyes were closed tightly, and he waited for the wave of emotion to wash away. He could feel Haine's eyes on him, but didn't have the guts to look back at him until he knew he wasn't going to cry.

But he realized then that such denial would do him no good. He'd been ignoring himself and his partner for years, and now was not the time to continue such habits, not after what he had just suffered through. So, glancing up at his partner's expectant, shadowed glance from underneath the crook of his elbow, he took a shaky breath. Haine's lips were pressed into a flat, waiting quazi-pout. Apparently he'd had more than enough of the one-eyed man's waffling, but was too tired or too polite (most likely the former) to comment.

"I saw you get killed," Badou started with a very strong stiff knife stuck down his throat. Or at least that's what it felt like. He could have sworn by the fact that it was there, because swallowing it hurt like hell. He felt the waves of almost amused disbelief rolling off of his partner, but shook his head.

Their eyes met again, and the subtle emotions died away, Haine's pout thinning into a flat expression. "I'm serious," Badou said, and apparently his tone of voice got through. "I… it was the worst thing I've ever seen… Worse than my brother's death, and I mean that."

Haine seemed stunned at that point, and Badou felt pleased with himself. He sat up a bit more, resting his elbow on the cushion where his head had been resting and letting his hand lay lax next to Haine's chest. The urge to touch was a hard one to ignore, but he resisted, knowing that waiting would be worth the reward at some point. "It's because of _that_," Badou said, feeling a cold shiver run down his spine at the thought of Suma's hollow laughter, "that I don't want us to ever lose sight of each other. I don't want… to lose you again."

Haine snorted halfheartedly, re-burying his face in his arm even as he spoke. But his voice lacked the conviction for malice that it usually had. "What, you don't think I can take care of myself? You my babysitter now or something?"

Badou grabbed hold of the other man's arm, prying it away from the alabaster face even as the albino looked at him in confusion. "No, you can't. Because you're human like I am, and we need other people in our lives to help take care of us. We need other people to make sure we stay alive just as much we need ourselves to know who we are."

The albino seemed outright stunned by the other man's words, and his pale lips were parted in surprise. But Badou could see in the wavering red orbs that he'd his something deep within the albino. Some deep dark place that hadn't been touched in a long time had felt the blow of his words, and Badou could almost see the man retreating into himself even as they sat looking at each other.

"Don't run away from me now," Badou said, reaffirming his grip on the other man's arm. Now he was the one shaking the other out of a distant reality. And he knew now that he and Haine shared yet another thing; they both knew the depths and breadths of the pain one could feel.

Haine's upper lip curled, and he leaned forward, looming over the gunner as pain stabbed across his expression. He was hurting just as much as Badou, but he'd been hurting for far longer, and his scars were far deeper than the Cyclops had originally thought. "Do you know what happened to the last person I let "help take care" of me?" he snarled out, his voice wavering with what Badou realized with more surprise than was probably necessary were tears. "I _tore her in half_. I _murdered_ her. Don't tell me that I need someone to take care of me, Badou, because I sure as hell-"

"Need one," Badou interrupted, speaking just as strongly. He hauled himself up onto the couch, sitting next to the albino and leaning over him, it being his turn to loom. "And do you know what happened to the last person I let "help take care" of me? I watched him die, and got half-blinded in the process. But I wasn't just blinded physically; I let myself be blinded emotionally because I didn't ever want to hurt so bad again in my life. I was so wanting to avoid that pain that I let myself become inhuman. And what I saw, over the past few hours or over the past week, whichever, made me realize that it was never going to help me. Trying to run from that pain was never going to make it go away." His expression softened, and he noted that Haine's emotional scowl had died away.

"It only made it worse, in the end, I ended up losing more because of it." He wasn't sure exactly how he was supposed to continue, or on what train of thought he was supposed to be going, but he continued anyway. "It made me realize that the risks are worth the rewards…"

Kind of like what he was trying to pull right now. If Haine so much as _smelled_ something fishy along the entire way, Badou knew that he'd be up the creek without a paddle, but he had to risk it. He had to show the albino that he meant what he said. That all of his implied words had a solid, valid meaning, even if they didn't necessarily sound like it. That the purpose of his hellish dream had not been for naught in the end.

So, against his better judgment, he leaned down and let his lips grace the wrinkled skin of the albino's forehead. He then rested their two foreheads together, feeling Haine's scowl rather than needing to see it. All he could see at that moment were the ruby eyes staring back up at him. He grinned goofily in spite of himself, hoping to lighten Haine's mood just a bit before it turned around and bit him where it hurt. "So what do you say, Haine-chan, how about you and I at least take that risk together?"

For a long time Haine didn't answer, and Badou was left grinning sheepishly, hoping that the wolf pinned under his forehead wasn't going to kill him. It was a valid fear, knowing his partner. But he could only hope that all of their exchanged words that day had come to do something in the albino's mind to change it. That there had been some meaning discerned from his nonsensical babble, and that Haine at least got the gist of some of what he was saying.

Finally, the albino let out a long sigh, letting his tired eyes flutter closed. Badou's smile widened as he recognized the show of consent, and nearly hugged the albino for it. But he waited, wanting to hear it from the albino's mouth before he made any incorrect assumptions.

"God damn it," was enough for him, and that was all that Haine said anyway. Thoroughly pleased he rubbed the tips of their noses together, a strange show of affection he'd seen wooing couples and loving mothers do. He didn't really understand the meaning of it, but he liked the idea anyway. His smile was etched onto his face, and Haine's once more opened eyes were probably filled with it.

"Good," Badou said, straightening back up just enough to get some distance between their faces, but not nearly enough to indicate his leaving Haine's vicinity anytime soon. "Now, with your permission, I'd like to seal our little deal."

* * *

-Okay, so I am sooo sorry for those of you that read this the first time without knowing that it wasn't completed. Probably some major WTF moments for most of you. For some reason my computer's version of Word crashed on me in the middle of this chapter, and there were about two thousand words missing from the draft that was posted. I am terribly sorry for the confusion, and also because it cut off at probably the most awkward point in the chapter. Please forgive me; it was NOT intentional. Also, for those of you seeking updates on the "extended" chapter's status, it's a bit delayed because I had to rewrite this one anyway, and because I'm a bit of a prude and am finding that I don't quite have the stomach for it. If any of you want to give me help on this, I would REALLY appreciate it. If no one steps up, I may just not do that chapter and mark this fic completed for good, and that will be the end. So, please enjoy the complete version of the last chapter of Gilded Silver, and look for updates on it on my profile.

8-90s love,

crypto


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